


capsized, like a ship flipped over in the ocean

by theredhoodie



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Alternate Post-Season 3 Finale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Future Fic, Hades/Persephone vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8692102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredhoodie/pseuds/theredhoodie
Summary: Seven years ago, Kate Fuller said goodbye to the Geckos, goodbye to culebras forever. Now, at age twenty-five, she's living a normal life in normal Denton, Texas, and all she wants to do is keep on track. But one phone call from one Richard Gecko is going to send her spiralling back into the world of culebras and Xibalbans and forever shake the core of her existence.





	

**Author's Note:**

> And here it is! I came up with this idea a while ago and have been working on it FOREVER. Thankfully I was able to write nearly 13k of it yesterday to finish it off and here we go! Generally it's my take on what may have happened at the end of S3 of Kate hadn't gone with the Geckos and just wanted to never be around the supernatural ever again. I hope you like it!
> 
> Edited by me, all mistakes are my own! Thanks to my twitter cheerleaders, especially Bianca!

"Do you ever feel like your life and everything in it is just slowly turning upside down like a ship flipping over in the ocean?" – _Kate Fuller to Richie Gecko_

* * *

DAY 1  
**WEDNESDAY**

This was not the first time that it happened. As terrible a thought as that was, Kate has had to deal with this for years. She refused to lie about it to make life a little less awkward for those around her. She did enough lying as it was.

So, when Alan Trebeck, the English sub who was just accepted on full time earlier today, talked to Kate, the pretty administration girl, it was bound to come up. They discussed the job, the kids, a few of their coworkers, and, once small talk lulled, Alan brought up family.

"So what do your parents do?" he asked, sipping the punch that he'd prefer to be alcohol but they were on school property so there was only so much he could do about that.

Kate knew it was a simple enough question, one that got asked during first dates, initial meetings, and even after knowing someone for a while. Unfortunately for Kate, her gut reaction was one that scared most people away. She tried to go for a more subtle approach than usual:

"I um…I don't have any."

"Oh," Alan said, not quite getting the hint. "Were you adopted or something?"

Trying not to sigh and wondering how he, while sweet but unable to pick up on social cues, was hired as a schoolteacher, Kate smiled thinly and shook her head. "No. Excuse me." She slid past him and over to her fellow admin ladies, Cathy and Janet, leaving Alan to ponder her reply and ask around until he got the chilling answer that her entire family met horrid ends when she was seventeen.

"Are we sure hiring this guy was the best idea?" Kate asked. "I mean, he seems nice and all, but he doesn't seem like the sharpest tool in the shed."

Cathy, obnoxious and brash, looked over Kate's shoulder at Alan who was hurriedly trying to figure out the enigma that was darling Kate Fuller. She shrugged. "He's nice to look at. For once."

"We didn't hire him anyway," Janet said flippantly, waving a hand holding a clear plastic cup. "That and this party, if we can even call it that, was Rhonda's idea."

Rhonda Lark, the principal of Billy Ryan High School, was currently laughing with a few homeroom teachers.

"I can't say I blame her," Cathy said, staring at Alan who looked like he just got the answer he was looking for. He paled and looked over to where Kate's back was turned to him. "He is nice to look at."

Kate rolled her eyes and finished her drink. Pushing back the hem of her cardigan, she checked her watch. It wasn't too late, but she still had to fill her tank and grab food on the way home, so she decided to dip out early. After making her rounds, saying goodbye to everyone and giving Rhonda a quick side-hug, Kate made her way toward the exit.

Alan slid in front of her as she stuck a hand in her bag and dug around for her keys.

"Kate," he said. He had that look of worry and pity on his face that Kate could very well do without.

"Hi Alan," she said, trying to get past him. He shuffled in front of her. "Look, whatever you're going to say, please don't. If you're going to say sorry, I appreciate the thought but it's not necessary."

He gaped for something to say. "I'm…okay."

"It was nice talking to you. I'll see you tomorrow," Kate said, pulling her keys out and jangling them. He nodded and stepped aside, letting her pass.

She walked through the dimming halls of the high school toward the entrance leading to the faculty parking lot. It was still nice out, thankfully, and she got into her small, modest car and headed to pick up take-out.

A kitchen gal she was not. She rarely cooked and most often it was just pasta or microwavable meals. She had tried it all: cooking meat, cooking vegetables, and all of it had ended in disaster. She exercised enough to work off any extra calories and she tried to only eat out from healthier places. She wasn't eating pizza every night.

Her apartment complex wasn't gated, but she always felt safe there. It was well light and there hadn't been any issues since she moved in. Parking her car, she gathered up her things and went inside. The sky was getting dark as she unlocked her door and stumbled into the dark. She managed to get the light switch with her elbow and flooded the living room and open kitchen with artificial illumination.

With a bottle of water and her food, she sat down and watched half an hour of some sitcom TV show and then proceeded to do her dishes, pick up any messes she'd left herself in the morning, and settle in.

She wasn't a teacher so she didn't have papers to correct or course work to come up with for the future. She could just sit on the couch and relax and enjoy herself.

That is, until she really wanted some wine.

With a sigh, she heaved herself off of her couch and padded into the kitchen. Her red wine was on the counter, already opened and missing a glass from the other night. Just as she opened the cabinet door, her phone rang.

Kate didn't know where the zip code hailed from, and since Scott hadn't called her in a few weeks, she knew it had to be him. She hit accept and propped the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she said, "Hello?"

There was silence on the other end of the line as she reached up to grab a glass out of the cabinet. "Hello?" she said again. "Scott?"

"Kate?"

The glass fell out of her hand and clattered in the sink, luckily not breaking. The voice did not belong to Scott. She knew the voice, but it was not Scott. The world around her was suddenly pulled into a whirlpool, collapsing around her.

She put her hand against the counter to steady herself.

"Kate?" the voice repeated, small and filled with emotion.

"Richard," she said finally. Saying it felt like she was socked in the stomach. She slid down to the floor before her knees could give out.

Richie let out a breath that she could hear across the line.

"How did you…?" She didn't need to finish asking, he knew what she meant. God, her voice sounded like she had been crying for at least an hour. She swallowed hard.

"I tracked down Scott."

She was in too much shock to be angry with her brother. He knew she wanted nothing to do with anyone involved with what happened her and her family; Scott was the one and only exception and even her interactions with him were sporadic and distant.

"I needed to talk to you," Richie said after another lengthy pause.

Kate gripped the edge of the counter above her head with her fingertips. Her world shifted around her as if she'd been on a ship and it was slipping under. "What do you want?" she asked. Proudly, her voice sounded sharper and less like she was having a mental and emotional breakdown.

"It's about Seth."

She felt like doing so many things at once: yelling, crying, curling up in a ball, throwing shit around. "What do you want?" she repeated, her voice taking on a harsh edge. She was a cornered animal and she had to get out. She would fight and bite her way out if she needed to.

"Seth's…he died."

Silence.

Kate felt another sock in the gut. Her hands started shaking and she couldn't grip the counter anymore. She was thankful she was sitting down already. Any semblance of reality she had going for her was quickly disintegrating. Was this real? Had any of this been real?

"Kate?" Richie's voice, soft and broken on the other end of the line.

Kate squeezed her eyes shut and forced her constricted lungs to take in air. She breathed heavily three times like she was in a lamaze class before she answered: "Please don't call me again."

She hung up.

She set her phone down on the linoleum beside her. She closed her eyes and took deep, even breaths like her therapist had taught her. She thought about her life now: about her work, about the kids she helped every day, about her Sundays at church. She reached for the cross around her neck. She sat there until her hands stopped shaking. Once she could stand, she did, taking the glass and putting it back into the cupboard.

Everything around her still felt like it was unstable, like she would take one step onto the living room carpet and she would fall through to another universe and find herself in Hell again.

No.

Forcefully shaking her head, she pushed herself forward, holding her breath until her feet hit the cool floor of her bathroom. On autopilot, she turned on the shower, stripped and stepped in. She simultaneously tried to think about calming and stabilizing things and trying not to think about anything at all at the same time.

It was the quickest shower she had ever taken, and once she turned off the water, she instantly started to shiver. Drying herself off, she combed her hands through her hair, found some pajamas, brushed her teeth and crawled into bed.

It was too early, but she didn't care. She got under her covers and tried to close her eyes but they kept popping open. The shadows playing across her room tricked her and she hid under the comforter in the pure darkness so they couldn't get to her.

"Breathe," she told herself, "breathe, Kate, _breathe_ , Kate."

* * *

DAY 2  
**THURSDAY**

Kate tapped her foot anxiously as she sat down in her therapist's office. Her therapist, Reba Jones, sat opposite her, looking put together in a nice two-piece suit and a cream colored top. She was about the same age as Kate's mother would have been.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Reba asked. She was a real therapist, not one on television who scribbled in notebooks and made the patient feel insecure about themselves.

Kate heaved a sigh and put her hand to her forehead. She had barely slept, woken up at 6 in the morning, cleaned most of her apartment and called Reba's office at exactly 7am to make an appointment. She had been coming to see Reba once a month for the past six months and doing well. So, when she called so desperate, Reba took her in immediately.

The clock on the wall showed 7:19.

"Richie called me last night," Kate said, digging her thumbnail under the nail of each of her other fingers over and over again; a nervous tick.

Reba jones raised her sculpted eyebrows. "Richard Gecko?"

The greatest thing about therapy was that Kate didn't have to lie. She told Reba everything, from her father renting that RV all the way until she made her way back to civilized Texas thanks to the Ranger. Every death, every culebra, every supernatural thing was detailed out.

Reba, being a therapist, thought Kate was speaking in metaphors.

It did a wonder for Kate to tell the truth and not have to censor herself.

"Yes," Kate nodded. "I thought the call was from Scott but it was Richie on the other end of the line."

Reba frowned slightly but nodded. "Did something stressful happen yesterday to bring back some sort of anxiety?"

Kate shrugged. "No. That new guy at work, Alan, asked about my family but I got over that years ago thanks to you. I swear, nothing happened. Not on my end of things."

"And on Richard's?"

Kate paused. She had walled off her brief conversation with Richie in her brain, keeping it contained. "He told me Seth died," she said slowly.

Reba shifted in the seat. "His brother."

Kate nodded.

"And what did you do?"

"I…told him not to call me and hung up," Kate confessed. If she pried off a brick of the wall in her mind, it allowed her to feel bad about that. She knew how important Seth was to Richie; he was probably going through a really hard time. "Then I took a shower and went to bed."

"That's good. It shows how much you've grown since you first started seeing me," Reba said. "It's been over seven years since that time. Over seven years since you heard from either of the Gecko brothers. How do you feel like you're dealing with this sudden reappearance?"

Kate bit the inside of her cheek. She steadied her hands in her lap. "I feel like I'm very quickly slipping down a muddy slope that I had gotten to the top of and settled on. As you can see, my nerves are on edge, my emotions would be even more of a mess if I allowed myself to think of the consequences of Seth being gone, and I barely slept."

Reba said nothing, but encouraged Kate to continue and expand.

"It was like a trigger just hearing his voice. Everything that I had come to terms with came rushing back. All of the death, the torture, the emotional hurricane…it just settled on me but I put up walls and tried to focus on where I am now, y'know? I have a job, I have a place to live, I'm stable. I stay away from that life as much as I can and then it just…" She sighed and allowed herself to relax back into the couch cushion. "I tried sleeping but I could just feel darkness creeping up to me like hungry shadows. Pieces of Xibalba wanting me, finding my emotions leaking out and coming to me to continue what it started." She shuddered and crossed her arms. "I don't know what I should do."

"It does seem like you're handling this as best as you possibly can. What are you struggling with? Do you think Richard will call you back and pull you back in someway?"

Kate frowned. "He won't call me back. Richie is unpredictable but he has never done anything to harm me and he won't call back because I told him not to. I just…"

"Just what?"

"I'm worried about him."

"I don't think you should be."

"I _know_. I know I have no reason to be, but he just lost his brother. I know him and I know how he feels. I know exactly what happened to the Geckos when they were apart and alone the first time." Aside from seeing Seth's downhill slide firsthand, she had seen Richie's off-the-grid disaster when Seth went to prison thanks to Amaru sucking on his soul. Kate remembered each soul the Queen took or tried to take; they were burned into Kate's memory and no amount of therapy was going to make them go away. She had learned to live with them.

"But he is not your responsibility. Your responsibility is to yourself, Kate. You've been doing remarkably well since you started seeing me. You've gotten friends, you've rejoined a church, I've seen you blossom into a strong young woman. I think that any interaction with Richard Gecko or anyone from that time in your life will only make you go backward within your recovery. I encourage you to keep moving forward and to not forget the progress you've made." Reba made a convincing case, one that Kate knew to be true, but found it very nice to hear someone else say.

Kate sighed. "You're right. I have to go to work after this anyway. I can focus on the here and now, on the futures of the kids, and on my own steps forward."

Reba nodded with a small smile. "That's good, Kate. I'm very glad you called me. Let's make an appointment for next Monday and see how things go until then, okay?"

Kate took a deep breath, relieved. Her hands were still fidgety, but once she was busy at work, that should settle down. "Okay."

* * *

DAYS 3, 4 AND 5  
**FRIDAY, SATURDAY, and SUNDAY**

Every morning she wakes up feeling like she's in an ice bath. Her whole body shakes and she has bags under her eyes like she hadn't had in years. Thankfully the weekend means no school, no interaction. She can hide away, forgo the makeup and just be herself. She grocery shops in her sweatpants and hoodie with her hair piled on the top of her head. She walks to the corner store at night to get ice cream. She tries not to eat out.

To the outside world, she looked like she always did: a petite young woman going about the menial parts of life. But she was dealing with so much more than that.

She was covered in scars, inside and out, and they were all pulsing, showing themselves to her, reminding her of where she had once been:

The jagged slices across her forearms from a Xibalban blade. A nasty slice across her upper arm during the final battle. The faded but ever-present bullet hole wounds in her abdomen.

Killing her father. Watching Scott reject her and their family. Seeing Scott's carnage and still, deep in her heart, loving him still. Being pushed around by the Geckos. Dying by Carlos' shots. Amaru's physical and emotional torture for half a year, killing for the fun of it and making her watch all of it.

These memories came to back Kate, leaving her shaking and grasping for any semblance of reality.

She had one person in her life that could possibly understand even just a fraction of what she was going through but Scott always called on burner phones and never used to the same number twice. She couldn't find him, even if she wanted to.

That is, unless she stepped fully back into the world she had spent seven years trying to erase from her memory.

She couldn't do that. Not yet. She was still trying to move forward not backward.

But it was so difficult when every time she was alone at home, she felt the tendrils of evil, imagined or real she didn't know, from Xibalba snaking toward her, trying to overtake everything she had worked toward.

She slept little, resorted to buying a bottle of whiskey to help that fact, and watched the bags under her eyes deepen in color.

Multiple times a day, she looked in the mirror, her hands gripping the sink and repeated, "She is not a part of you anymore. She has no hold over you."

* * *

DAY 6  
**MONDAY**

It didn't take a genius to see that Kate had a rough weekend. Reba didn't comment right away on the disparaging display of Kate. She was dressed for work in a dress, cardigan and flats, her hair straight down, makeup trying to cover the bruised color under her eyes.

"How have the past few days been, Kate?" Reba asked.

Kate was beyond shaking hands and tense muscles today. She was just tired, so tired. She leaned back against the cushions of the couch and tried not to doze off. "Not all that great, actually," she said, her words sharp with attitude.

"Do you want to tell me what you've been going through?"

Kate came here for a reason, and she forced herself to remember that. Reba had helped her become a normal part of society again after a year of dealing with culebra and wielding guns. "I just…I can't sleep. I keep having nightmares of Amaru and Xibalba, it's like it's tugging me back in and I don't have anyone here to anchor me, to keep me from falling."

Reba thought that Xibalba was Kate's metaphor for manic depression and Amaru was a made up figure, possibly a dark aspect of Kate, who pushed her in that direction. "You don't have any other friends you could talk to about feeling depressed or lost?"

Kate had no family. No parents, no brother—at least not one who was easily contacted—and while Kate had a good dozen acquaintances and friends, she wasn't close enough to any of them to divulge her mental issues. "No. Not anyone I feel comfortable with. I can't talk to Scott because I don't have his number and the only other people I know of are…"

"Okay." Reba sat forward and pushed herself off of her seat. She walked to her desk and scribbled on a notepad. "I'm going to prescribe you a week's worth of sleeping pills. Just to take the edge off and help you rest. An unrested mind is more likely to get riled up and to see things that aren't there." She gave the paper to Kate. "Take them and call me when you think you feel like seeing me again, okay?"

Kate nodded. She also knew that Reba would call and ask her to come in if she went too long without coming in. Reba did her best to help Kate and Kate really had come a long way since that scared and broken teenager she had been when she first came to the office. But things were different now. She had come to terms with a lot of what had happened to her. She had matured in a so-called normal standard and she had to learn how to face what was happening to and around her like every other grown person in the world.

"Thank you," Kate said, giving Reba a tight smile and putting the slip of paper in her bag.

Kate was very good at putting on a face at school. She seemed a little tired, but otherwise, none of the kids or her coworkers noticed much different. She occasionally went through low spells, so they was used to seeing it. It was usually around a family birthday or around Christmas. As it was neither time of the year at the moment, someone keeping a close eye on her would notice, but since Kate wasn't heart-bearing close to any of her coworkers, everyone just commented she should try to get some more sleep and brought her cups of coffee.

She stopped by the post office and pharmacy on the way home, as well as picked up a to-go salad from this vegetarian joint near her apartment. Once she had eaten, showered and washed the kitchen, it was too early to sleep. Instead, she decided to vacuum the living room and bedroom, cleaned the sliding glass doors to the balcony, and changed the sheets on her bed.

There wasn't really anything else for her to do, so she changed into pajamas and stared at the orange bottle filled with blue pills.

"Just to help you sleep," she muttered to herself, knees to chest on the couch, heavy curtains thrown open but thin white ones blocking any vivid views of her through the windows. "Just to help you sleep."

Her phone sat next to her, the screen dark. No one was trying to check up on her, no one cared that much about her to do so. It was a misfortune of her own making, one that, at this moment, she was regretting.

She had gotten used to be alone, but there was a difference between being alone and being lonely. Loneliness settled on her shoulders like a heavy weight, pushing her down, down, down and all she wanted to do was float to the surface and not be lost. She couldn't bear to be a lost girl again. She didn't think she would be able to make it through a second time.

The pills, innocently sitting in the bottle, were supposed to help her.

Instead, they drudged up the image of her mother overdosing in her childhood home and tears stung her eyes. She threw the bottle and it clattered against the wall under the TV. She had never been able to take pills…no matter how many times Reba offered her antidepressants, she couldn't do it. It hit too close to home.

Her eyes were dry but a clamp squeezed around her heart, her lungs feeling constricted, like there was a heavy object on her chest. She reached for her phone.

She had been right, of course; she couldn't handle this alone. There was no way a single person could deal with all of this without someone close to them. Scott had his own life, she couldn't drag him into this, even if she wanted to. She loved him, yes, and he loved her, but he had gone in a completely different direction as her. She didn't want him to feel guilty about the things she was going through because they happened when she was trying to save him. It was no one's fault. It was just how the universe ticked.

She scrolled through the recent calls on her phone, her thumb hovering over the number from Wednesday. She didn't even know if it would connect, but she pressed it anyway.

Holding her breath, she lifted the phone to her ear. Her heart thudded so loudly she was sure he would be able to hear it through the line.

"Kate?" He must have saved her number in his phone.

Kate was relieved— _relieved_ —that the number had connected. She couldn't believe she had fallen this far to actually find herself _needing_ one of the Geckos but here she was, clutching her phone to her ear in Denton, Texas, wishing against all things that she was just back in Mexico in that moment, before shit hit the fan, between pulling up to the Titty Twister and watching Santanico's sultry dance.

"Hi," she said finally, the word forming around the throbbing in her throat, the pumping of her heart overtaking all of her other human antics.

"Hi," he echoed, voice small and boyish.

Kate took in a shaky breath and rested her forehead against her knees. "I am so sorry about Seth, Richie." It was the first thing that came to mind, the thing she should have said when he called her the first time. She realized that she didn't even know how long it had been since his death.

There was a pause. "Thanks," Richie said stiffly.

With the hand free of holding the phone, Kate wrapped her fingers around her ankle and tried not to dig her nails into her skin. She felt like she should be crying, but her eyes were dry. "I don't know what to do," she finally said.

"Welcome to the club."

She sniffed out of habit, not because her nose was running or her eyes were getting teary. Her face was dry as a bone. "Everything is coming back to me," she said in a rush. "Amaru, all the…things she did and made me watch, everything about her and Xibalba. It keeps coming back to haunt me and I can't…Richie, I…I can't handle this alone. I don't know anyone else."

Kate heard him sigh. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have called."

"It's okay," she found herself saying, even though it was not okay.

"I don't have anyone either," he confessed after a pause that she didn't even realize was a pause because she was trying to sooth away the Xibalban shadows threatening to maroon her on the couch.

She had no idea what her life was becoming, but she knew that without something to support her from falling deep, she was going to end up mentally unstable and broken like her mother and she refused to become that. Not after everything she's been through.

"I need to see you," she said, the words truer than anything she'd spoken to anyone but Reba in seven years.

"Okay," Richie said. She could imagine him, wherever he was, nodding along, a plan forming in his mind in how he would get to her while battling the sun.

Richie asked for her address, which she gave, and then they disconnected. He didn't tell her how much time it would take, when to expect him, or anything of the sort. And yet, she trusted that he would show up. He had to. They both would gain something from this meeting. No matter how weak and hopeless Kate felt, a part of her knew that she had to do what she did because no one, no matter how strong they were, could make it through something like demonic possession PTSD without someone to confide in.

An hour later, Kate curled up in her bed, staring at the numbers of her alarm clock until she somehow fell asleep.

* * *

DAYS 7 AND 8  
**TUESDAY and WEDNESDAY**

How could she possibly act _normal_ with everything going on? Every shadow sent her jumping. Every time she felt eyes on her she thought it was Richie. She was quite possibly losing her mind and she had to go through the motions and act like everything was okay.

Tuesday slipped by and she went out for a drink with Janet afterward. Janet talked about her dog that got sick, Kate made up something to say that didn't involve demons and mental instability.

Wednesday was typical, her day to go out with her non-work friends, Sarah and Jen, to dinner. They do it every other Wednesday, to catch up, chat about things here and there. Kate, distracted, left a bit early, claiming a headache. The walk from the restaurant to her car and all the way home left her with a rapid heart rate and quick, shallow breathing.

By the time she got home, she thought there were Xibalban demons around every corner, hiding in every shadow.

Her home has no weapons, unless you counted kitchen knives. She should be _fine_ , she shouldn't be having this intense of a reaction to mere thoughts. She was almost convinced that they were entirely in her head, but at the same time, could she really be certain that she was safe, that Santanico had complete control over the culebra?

She locked the deadbolt and slid down against her front door. She dug her nails into the carpet and leaned her head back, concentrating on her breathing. She was stronger than this. After everything she had been through, this could not be the thing to break her. She had to look deep within herself and drag up that part of her that had survived all of those horrific things done to her, around her, by her during her seventeenth year of earth.

She pressed her golden cross between her fingers and slowed her breathing, sucking in air deeply so she wouldn't start hyperventilating.

There would be no hallucinations of the dead to get her through this. She had only herself to rely on, only herself to keep strong.

If Richie wasn't coming, she was going to have to find a fix that wasn't reliant on pills.

It had only been a few days, but Kate already doubted that he was going to get here. She assumed he was in the US still, but had he returned to Mexico for easier picking grounds? If he was caught knocking off banks in America, his elaborate staged death would go to waste. So if he was in Mexico, could he get over the boarder? No matter where he was coming from, could he travel and find her and not get burnt to a crisp? She had no idea, and she couldn't risk calling him again, in case it gave her false hopes or she found out something bad happened on his trip to see her.

Opening her eyes to the darkness of her apartment, she got to her feet, still holding the cross, and shuffled across the carpet. Once her knees hit her couch, she felt around for the lamp switch and twisted it. The room lit up and Kate took in a deep breath.

Nothing bad happened to her. She wasn't attacked, or tortured, and yet she felt more shaken than she had since the culebra first showed themselves in the Titty Twister.

"Get ahold of yourself, Kate," she said, though she was not as convincing as she'd hoped. "You destroyed the Queen of Hell, you can handle a few nightmares."

* * *

DAY 9  
**THURSDAY**

Thursday flew by in a blink. One of her favorite students—Jaime Garson—had gotten into some trouble with marijuana and Kate spent the majority of her day trying to figure all of that out. Her high school had 2,536 students and she knew the names of each of them. That was her job, and it gave her a purpose to help mold the future generation.

By the time Thursday night hit, she was back home, feeling the weight on her chest and shoulders again. She was in pajamas—a t-shirt and cotton shorts—with her hair wet and limp, hanging around her face and soaking the shoulders of her shirt. The TV was on, but she wasn't paying much attention to it. She fingered her cross as her mind drifted elsewhere. She silently prayed to a God she was still convinced was real in spite of everything she had seen.

Startled by the light knock on her door, she gasped and then steadied herself, hand above her heart, before she stood. She wasn't expecting take-out food, and her mind was too scattered to think of who it could be.

"Coming," she called out as she grabbed her long robe off the back of the couch and pulled it on, hiding the scars littering her arms. Yanking the cord tight around her middle, she unlocked the deadbolt and took the handle before taking a breath. She pulled the door open.

It took a moment for her mind to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. Tall, dark, shadowed by the low lighting outside her door. Her eyes focused and she saw him: the same glasses, the same tie-less suit, hadn't aged a day, and yet, under all the same features, he was a mess. It was something about his eyes. As put together as he looked on the outside, his insides were in chaos.

Oh how she could relate to that.

"Kate," he said, the word barely audible.

It was enough to yank her to the present. She didn't say a thing, only stared, taking in the same face she had known all those years ago. She thought that she was asleep. The movie must have bored her enough for her to drift off. If she touched him, he would disappear into a shroud of mist, a figment of her imagination.

She reached forward, her arm moving stiffly and jerkily. His hand also moved in accordance. The moment their skin touched—hers, warm and soft; his, warm and rough—she found her world turned upside down.

This was no dream. He had actually come to her.

Unable to speak and feeling the burn behind her eyes that always came before she cried, she moved her hand to his jacket and gently tugs him inside. Her other hand joined it and she rested her head against his chest as a sob bubbled up her throat. She sobbed, wet, sloppy sobs that wracked her body with shudders.

She hadn't cried in years. And she wasn't sure who she was crying for. For herself and her mental break. For Richie and his loss and everything he did to help save her from the fate that inevitably had befallen her. For Seth who had protected her as best as he could, who was messed up but would do anything for his brother. None of them deserved this.

She cried and he put his arms gently around her, smoothing one over her damp hair and one against her upper back pressing her closer to him. She cried and cried until there was a knock on the doorway that made her gasp and jump back.

Her breaths came in short bursts. Richie stood still as Kate gripped his arms and peered around him. Her neighbor across the hall was standing there. She was a kind woman who lived with her grown daughter. She also always worried about Kate living alone.

"Is everything alright?" Mrs. Cortez asked, noting the large man standing there—Kate rarely, if ever, had visitors—and having been concerned after hearing a lot of crying.

Kate sniffed and nodded, sure her face was a mess. "Yes. Um…thank you. Goodnight." She moved past Richie and he stepped farther into her apartment so she could close and lock the door.

It felt as if the entire room was holding its breath as she slid over the deadbolt. She stayed there a few seconds longer, taking in a deep breath and letting it out before turning around. In the light, Richie looked, impossibly, the exact same age as the last time she'd seen him. Twenty-seven maybe? Something close to that, at least.

"This is so bizarre," Kate said, breaking the silence. She searched his face, those always startling blue eyes behind glasses she was sure would have gotten broken by now and yet there they were, perched on the bridge of his nose. "We look about the same age now."

It was true. Kate was twenty-five. She was still petite, but her curves had filled out, her face had gotten a little thinner. She held herself like she was twenty-five and not a teenager like he would remember her as.

Richie let out one of those laughs that wasn't really a laugh but a quick expulsion of air out of his nose accompanied by a curving up of the corner of his lips. "I guess so," he mused.

It was as if no time at all had passed between them but like all the time in the world had passed at the same time. There was a gulf between them but at the same time it was merely a crack in the concrete.

Kate smiled tentatively, crossing her arms tightly. "Do you want something to drink?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line and nodded.

She moved around him softly, taking glasses out of the cupboard and pulling the bottle of Jack Daniels across the counter to her. "It's all I've got unless you like cheap wine," she said as she poured a bit into each glass. "Hope you don't mind."

"It's fine." Richie startled her with his response. He had walked into the kitchen without her hearing or seeing.

Her heart now jump-started, she turned and handed him a glass. "There's—" she stopped mid-sentence as he downed the drink like a shot. "There's ice in the freezer. Help yourself."

She had to keep reminding herself to breathe. Richard Gecko was alive—well, _alive_ was a relative term with him—and in her apartment. That was the least worrisome thing in her life at the moment. The darkness of Amaru and Xibalba? That scared her more than any Gecko.

Sitting down on the armchair and leaving the couch open for him, Kate muted the television and watched him pour more whiskey and walk over without adding any ice. As odd as it was to see him sitting on _her_ couch, it somehow released some of the tension that had been drowning her over the past week. Technically his phone call had started all of this turmoil, and yet having him here was already putting her at ease.

Human emotions were confusing, even if they were your own.

Kate curled up, her legs against tucked under her, the glass resting against her thigh. Richie unbuttoned his suit jacket and looked practically anywhere but at her.

"How did it happen?" she asked finally right before sipping some alcohol. She wasn't big on drinking in general, but this week especially had called for it. Could she really catch up with Richie Gecko _without_ whiskey involved? Perhaps tequila would have been more appropriate but she hated the stuff.

Richie turned his eyes from the television to Kate. Unlike him, she looked the same but decidedly different. She held herself differently, spoke a bit differently, just generally had matured past what a demonic possession could do to a person.

Kate watched the television reflected on his glasses, unable to see the emotion in his eyes as he spoke.

"It was just…chaotic human error. We took on a job, followed through all aspects, cased it for two weeks. Seth even slept with one of the tellers to get her to let us in before the bank actually opened. It should have been a cut and dry gig." He sat forward now, elbows on his knees, using his hands to speak, the alcohol sloshing around in the glass. "We're professionals. Doing a bang up job like in Abaline, cops killed and shit, that's not how we did things. We weren't thugs or idiots."

"I know," Kate said softly, even though she didn't have to. It just felt right.

"After the whole Amaru thing we just went back to what we knew. Hitting banks, stocking up, staying low. It worked. And then this one…I should have known something bad was gonna go down. Sensed something, saw something. But no. Our timing was off just a fraction and it wasn't even the cops that were after us but some street gang. We stepped on their turf during the getaway and Seth was just…shot, right there. This wasn't some Mr. Orange and Mr. White shit. He didn't live for hours and bleed out. The bullet ruptured a lung and he died choking on his own blood in under a minute. I couldn't do jack shit about it."

He wasn't being emotional, which was probably the more unsettling part of the entire retelling. It was as if he was reading off of a script. Kate clutched at her glass and dug her nails into her side at the gruesome details.

"So I killed the guys and took Seth and laid low. He's buried in a shallow grave somewhere, far from the beach or any beautiful women." He frowned then and sat back heavily holding the glass with two hands. "We practically made a pact to die together and he had to go and stay human and look what the fuck happened."

All in all, Richie looked put together but Kate knew that he was far from that. As steady as he seemed, he was balancing on a tight rope and she knew exactly how he felt.

"I'm so sorry," she said finally, once she realized he was finished. She wished she could say "I can't imagine what you're going through" but she could imagine exactly what he was going through. And that was precisely why they ended up in this predicament in the first place. Sitting in Kate Fuller's living room, drinking whiskey and feeling genuinely sorry for themselves.

"I'm…shit, Kate, I'm sorry I pulled you back into all of this. I know you didn't want anything to do with me and Seth or fucking culebras ever again." His hand sliced through the air to make a point.

She shook her head. "It's okay. I always wanted to slide back into emotional instability on a Wednesday," she joked. Clearing her throat, she took another sip. "I'm glad you called me. Really, I am." What she didn't say was that she was glad he called her because she would have felt terrible if she somehow found out that the brothers had died and Richie had done something stupid to get himself killed because of Seth. Not because she was selfish, but because Richie was just the type of person who had an immortal personality. Like he was born to live forever and carry on.

The world would be lost without him, she truly believed that. Maybe just in small ways, but it would be lost.

"I um…I think I asked you to come here selfishly," she added after Richie didn't say anything to her half-hearted attempt at a joke.

"It wasn't entirely selfish," he replied.

"I have monsters to face and I'm not that same girl as back then. I asked you to come here to help me fight them." She almost said, "You're the only other monster I know," but didn't think he would take it the right way.

"This isn't a blame game. I called first. You called second. And here we are. The reasons why aren't important," Richie insisted.

Kate nodded into her whiskey. She sucked some in through her teeth, focusing on the tingle in her gums. Her face felt stiff from the salt of her tears. She hadn't cried that openly and long and hard since she first sat down in Reba's office seven years ago. It surprised her that something so volatile and extreme could come from _her_ , little Kate Fuller who everyone viewed as slightly different but kind and harmless. If only they knew.

As much as Kate tired sorting through emotions, the human complexity was beyond her pay grade. She spent seven years both embracing and then distancing herself from her emotions and that left her here, having mental breakdowns from nightmarish hallucinations about something very real that happened to her.

Richie, on the other hand, was very intelligent and could understand the chemical and logistical properties of human emotions, but his connection to them was underdeveloped, resulting in his own downward spiral years ago when he lost Seth to prison. And now, even more so.

"I should get to bed," Kate said, breaking the calm silence between them. Richie cleared his throat and stood as she did. She looked up at him slightly quizzically. "You can stay here, y'know. The couch is pretty comfortable."

Richie glanced behind him. "Sure. I have some stuff in the car. I'll be back."

She took his glass and watched him unlock her door with care and then shut it softly. Once he was gone, she let out a breath and shook her head as she walked to the sink to deposit the empty glasses.

She felt remarkably safer now that Richie was here. Saner, even. And what she almost said earlier was true: She had monsters to fight and now she had someone who could bite back. Literally.

A part of her felt like she was using him, but another part of her remembered Richie's own words from another life:

"I'm sorry your world's upside down, but I feel like all this is happening for a reason."

Kate disappeared into the bathroom while Richie was gone. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and ran a comb through her hair. She could see the glint of red near her roots. Whatever Amaru had done to bring her back to life had permanently stained her hair blood red, the same color that permeated Xibalba. Kate had to constantly keep it dyed to keep thoughts of the Queen of Hell from her mind.

Richie came back with a leather duffle bag just as she was exiting the bathroom.

"Feel free to get comfortable," Kate said, waving behind her toward the bathroom. "I'll find you a blanket and some pillows."

She disappeared across the hall to her room as if welcoming grown men into her place of residence was a common thing. It was strange how normal it felt to have Richie here. Even their speech patterns felt as if they had been happening for years rather than having sporadic conversations over a year's time and then not speaking for another seven.

She could hear Richie moving around as she pulled open one of two closets in her room. It had some spare linens and she shuffled through them. A medium grade blanket, two pillows with simple white cases. It was the best she could do.

Gathering them all up in her arms, she walked out to the living room. All the lights were off, just the TV illuminating everything with the flickering lights of the changing screens. Richie was folding up his suit pants. He was wearing a white undershirt and boxers.

"Here you go," Kate said, plopping the blanket and pillows on the couch. "Feel free to watch the TV, it won't bother me."

"Thanks," Richie said, folding up his glasses and placing them on top of his pants on top of his bag.

"Goodnight, Richie." She gave him a small smile before checking the door locks and then retreating into her room. She left the door open so she could see the lights. Taking off her robe, she hung it over a hook in the corner, quickly changed her shirt to something with long sleeves and then got under the covers. The only light on in the room was the small alarm clock.

She closed her eyes but couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, feeling Xibalba all around her. Finally, she opened her eyes to darkness. The TV light was still on, but still muted. After mild mental preparation, Kate pulled back the covers and padded softly into the living room.

"Richie?"

He was sitting on the couch, watching the TV but not paying attention to it. He had unfolded the blanket but hadn't moved the pillows.

"Do you want to come sleep next to me?"

The Kate Richie knew, the one he saw into the soul of, would have never in a million years asked such a thing, but this wasn't that Kate. He turned to her and wordlessly got up and turned off the TV. It was dark, but Kate knew her apartment well enough and assumed he could see in the darkness, so she didn't put on any lights. She got back into her spot on her large mattress, staying to the left side. Richie hesitated a moment before joining her under the covers.

She didn't know it, but he was in desperate need of a little human connection.

She sighed and settled into her spot, almost instantly feeling better and more relaxed. He stayed on his side, not shifting much but rolling onto his side. She couldn't tell if he was facing her or not. She kept her eyes shut.

It was amazing the sort of energy one could feel with another person sharing space with you. An empty apartment felt entirely different than one with Richie in it.

Kate allowed herself to fully relax, to give up her cares and burdens about Amaru and Xibalba just long enough to fall asleep, her breathing growing shallow and slow.

* * *

DAY 10  
**FRIDAY**

Kate woke to her phone vibrating and jingling nearby. Groggy, she slapped her hand down against her nightstand and felt around until she got her phone. Swiping over, she put the phone against her ear and closed her eyes.

"Hello?" she croaked out, her throat dry.

"Kate? Are you coming in today?" It was her boss, the VP of Billy Ryan High School.

"Shit!" Kate hissed. Her eyes flew open and she looked at the numbers on her alarm clock. 9:28am. "I am _so_ sorry, Carol, I slept through my alarm."

Carol, to Kate's surprise, chuckled. "Kate, you haven't been late to work in all the years you've worked here. It's fine. Get here by ten?"

"You got it. I'll be there." Kate hastily hung up and flung the covers back. In the dark, she stumbled around, finding clean underwear, pulling on a bra and pushing through numerous dresses in her closet.

As she pulled her dress on and tried finding a matching cardigan, Kate's mind went to two things. One was that she never actually set her alarm as the sun through her window usually woke her up. Two was how the hell had she slept through the sun coming through the window? Looking over at her window as she pulled on her nude flats, she saw that the thick dark curtains that she never used had been shut.

Frowning, she pulled open her half-closed door and was met with a sight that had her thinking she was actually dreaming:

Richie Gecko in slacks and an undershirt, no socks on his feet, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, his hair wet and slicked back, standing in her kitchen, buttering a bagel.

"Hi," she said, as if seeing him for the first time. Some part of her was still slumbering on the fact that she'd spent a good portion of the night talking to him and sleeping next to him. _Him_. Richard Gecko, of all people.

She was too late for work to process this.

"Sorry, I didn't think the curtains would make you late," Richie said, seeing her as she paused in the living room space before dashing into the bathroom.

Kate ran a brush through her hair and put a bit of hair spray in it to keep it laying flat before peeing and walking out again. "Thank you," she said, taking the offered bagel from. "I just usually use the sun as an alarm clock."

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Those? Shit. I didn't feel like turning to ash so I closed them."

Kate probably would have laughed at the obscure imagery if she didn't have a mouth full of bagel.

"Can I make you coffee?"

She shook her head and swallowed. "I'll get some at work. Thank you, for this," she raised the bagel, "I've got to run. I just…I'll see you later?" She rushed around, grabbed her purse and keys, not really getting a straight answer from him or allowing him time to answer before the door slammed behind her. She ran to her car, half a bagel in one hand, the other half clamped between her teeth.

Halfway to work it hit her that she had spent a night with Richie Gecko and it was highly possible he wouldn't be there when she returned.

"This is not the time," Kate told herself as she sped—she never actually went over the speed limit because her past experiences with speeding that involved the death of her mother, but Texas had very high limits to begin with—toward her work. "You have more important things to worry about. The Geckos do not control you. They _never_ have."

 _Then why did you sleep better last night than you have since before Momma died?_ a voice in her head ventured to retort.

Glaring at the road, Kate refused to answer.

The thought, however, distracted her all through her workday. She was so uncharacteristically distracted that Cathy caught her at the coffee table with her usual bluntness.

"It's a guy, ain't it?"

Kate frowned and looked up from the sugar she was stirring into a white cup. "Excuse me?"

"Why you were late. It's a guy."

Kate tried very hard not to lie about her day-to-day stuff because she had to keep so much to herself about that hell year. So she couldn't rightfully say _no_. "It's not like _that_ ," Kate scoffed. She sipped her coffee.

It was obvious Cathy didn't believe her. "Uh-huh."

"It's not, I swear. It's just an old…friend who's going through a hard time stopped by and we stayed up late talking." It was true. Enough.

"Talking," Cathy repeated, crossing her arms and arching a perfectly filled in eyebrow.

"Actually, yes, Cathy. For once, talking was just talking. Not everyone going through grief uses sex to get away from it," Kate said, lowering her voice even though there weren't any kids around and everyone else was busy.

Cathy waved a dismissive hand. "Only the best of us."

Kate sipped her coffee, exceptionally aware of how slow the clock was ticking and trying not to think about Richie alone in her apartment. She had nothing to _hide_ , but a tiny, teenage part of herself wondered if he would go through her stuff. Her personal stuff, her bedroom stuff.

"What's his name?" Cathy asked after Kate didn't continue the conversation.

"Hmm?" Kate shook away her thoughts of Richie going through her drawers and looked up at Cathy.

"Name, sweetie, what's his name?"

Kate chuckled. "Not a chance, Cathy." With an amused shake of her head, she left Cathy guessing and went back to her desk, where she stayed until three-fifteen, when she could finally leave.

She felt entirely hyped up on caffeine and the cool air outside was refreshing. The sun warmed her up too quickly for her liking and she eventually got into her car and waited for the crowds of kids to vacate before she inched out of the parking lot. It was too early for dinner and she hadn't brought her yoga gear, so she took the long way home and eventually pulled into the spot next to Richie's GTO at four-thirty.

With her walking speed cut at least in half from the morning, she took her time getting upstairs.

His car was here, so that meant he was still here. But, was it because it was sunny out, or was it because he actually wanted to stay?

She ran her fingertips down the driver side of the car, the black paint hot to the touch. She brought her hand back with dust on the tips and shook her head. Holding onto her purse strap, she climbed the steps to the third level apartment and fumbled with her keys.

The door stuck—it did that about five out of seven days of the week—and she had to bang her shoulder against it to get inside.

It was darker than usual inside, with the kitchen and living room overhead lights on. Her TV was also on, and Richie was sitting on the couch next to a pile of unused blankets and pillows, still wearing just slacks and a t-shirt.

Kate cleared her throat and closed the door, locking it out of habit.

"You're still here," she said, leaning down to pull off her shoes, squishing her bare toes into the carpet.

Richie swept his hand toward her room, where a beam of sun was leaking through the door. "Still light out. I can stop myself from burning for thirty…maybe sixty seconds."

She nodded, like that was a common thing now or at any time. Every culebra, even the oldest of them, should burn in the sun. She wondered if this had anything to do with what happened in Xibalba…

"How was work?" Richie asked, muting the television and turning to face her.

"Fine," she said as she made her way to her bedroom. She dipped inside, dropping her shoes and bag on the floor. She kept on her dress and cardigan and joined him. She sat next to him on the couch after moving the linens to the floor next to the couch. "I um…God, I'm sorry, this is just so weird."

"Isn't it?" He did his eyes-shut shrug with that not-smile turn up of his lips thing.

"I think it's because there's so much space between us. Years gone by and y'know." She frowned and pulled a leg under her. Turning so her side was against the back of the couch, she rested her elbow on the back so she couldn't do that thing where she looked anywhere but at him while she spoke. "I work at a high school."

"You gonna give me your life story now?" He was resisting a smile, she could tell.

Rather than replying, she mildly glared at him and continued. "I work in the front office. You know in the books or movies in middle school, or even high school, where that lady who is vaguely known as the principle's secretary is some sort of underdeveloped character? That's me. I mean, I'm not underdeveloped."

"I can see that."

She paused, dragged back in time before she knew who he really was, back at that pool where she was upset with her dad and flirted with the obviously much older man and tried smoking a cigarette and being more mature than she felt. She pressed her lips together, hoping her cheeks didn't go pink. "I'm gonna stop talking until you take this seriously."

He cleared his throat and patted the air with his hand. "I'm sorry. Continue."

She eyed him carefully before doing so. "I basically go through all of the files of new students and keep track of all of them. We have a lot of kids there, but I know each and every one of them. Most of them are pretty great. It's nice…being rooted in a place where I'm seeing what our future will be like."

"We're going to revert to teenagers in high school?"

That warranted her grabbing one of the pillows next to her and hitting him with it. "Richie!" she exclaimed. "I'm being serious! This is my life I'm trying to tell you about."

He chuckled—she wasn't sure that she'd ever actually heard him chuckle before, it was magical, like the chances of seeing a unicorn in the forest or something—and took the pillow from her. "I don't want to be serious right now. Watch a movie with me?"

Kate sighed and threw up her hands. She stood up, taking his pillow and grabbing the pile. She returned them to her bedroom as he called out after her:

"Is that a no?"

She walked back, wanting to take off her cardigan, but too conscious of her greatly scarred body to do so.

"I didn't say no."

"You didn't say yes either."

She smirked and sat next to him on the couch, closer than before, but with a hands length between their hips. "What are we watching?"

Richie shook his head but grabbed the remote, taking full control of their movie watching experience.

Two hours later, Kate's life was meant to be shaken by her experience, but she really found only the vaguest sense of enjoyment out of watching _anything_ these days except the occasional heart-wrenching Lifetime movie that left her feeling empty inside.

"What did you think?" Richie asked as the credits ended. He was about as intense as a puppy waiting for the bacon in her hand.

She wet her lips and processed Al Pacino's acting and the obvious theatrical violence from the 1993 film named after her least favorite culebra. "It was…a movie," she said innocently.

Richie let out a long sigh that involved him closing his eyes, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. "Kate," he said, and she was ready for him to lay into her all of his thoughts and feelings about _Carlito_ but instead he noticed the floor in her room wasn't bright anymore and stood up. "Let's go get some food."

She raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

He offered down a hand. It was quite an image: Richard Gecko, slightly disheveled, towering above her, hand outstretched toward her. "I'll explain the movie on the way."

With a moment's hesitation, she took his hand and he pulled her up easily. "I should have known you had ulterior motives."

Richie pulled on his white button down and did the buttons with finesse and speed that even Kate was slightly envious of. "I'll even drive."

Richie's car was _nice_. It drove smooth and purred like the happiest cat. The food place Kate chose was in a part of town where they had the least chance of being seen by most of Kate's friends. The restaurant was a hole-in-the-wall Greek Mom and Pop shop that had amazing food that sadly a lot of people didn't even know about.

Amid mousakka, lamb stuffed leaves, and fresh pita, Richie explained not only _Carlito_ , but a number of Al Capone's other roles, of which Kate had seen exactly zero. A preacher's girl from a small Texas town was not known for being up-to-date with classic gangster films. Kate enjoyed hearing Richie's enthusiasm though. It reminded her that he was a person just like her and everyone else, no matter if he needed to drink blood to survive or for the fact that he hadn't aged a day since she met him. Enthusiasm wasn't something that came easy to those going through the death of a loved one; Kate new the disparity well that came after the fall.

He was still somehow talking by the time they walked back into her apartment.

"Okay, okay!" she said, throwing her hands up to either side as he flicked on the light for her. "There is only so much meta talk I can handle in one evening." She turned to face him, watching how he always made sure to do up the deadbolt on her door. Her face was flushed just from the activity of the evening. She was used to being out at night and being around a lot of her friends, but this was different, and it always would be, because this was _Richie_.

Richie held up his hands in brief surrender. "Okay, sorry to swamp you. I didn't mean to."

"You totally meant to," Kate said with a shake of her head.

He dropped his hands and slipped them into his pants pockets. "Maybe a little."

She held his gaze for a few seconds before laughing through her nose and turning into the bathroom. "I'm going to shower. Feel free to get comfortable."

Once alone, she looked at herself in the mirror. She felt more like herself in the past few hours than she had in years. She was always herself, obviously, but with no secrets about her past hiding beneath the surface never to reveal themselves, it made her easier to just be Kate, rather than 'the enigma that was Kate Fuller'.

She showered quickly, painfully aware of the thin door blocking her naked self from that of Richie, and was thankful that she had about four different robes stashed around her house. She didn't feel comfortable just walking across the way to the bedroom with all of her scars showing. After drying off, she wrapped her hair in a towel, pulled the robe on and scurried across to her bedroom.

Dressing in her usual shorts but with a long sleeve shirt again, she pulled closed the shades herself, thankful the next day was Saturday and she didn't have to worry about being late again. She had no idea how long Richie was going to stay. They hadn't even touched the subject with a ten-foot pole, and for once, the uncertainty of the situation wasn't sending her into stress-induced panics, but she was rolling with it, giddy with excitement.

Which, immediately as she pulled the door open a crack and spied Richie downing a double shot of whiskey, made her feel like a terrible person. Seth had _died_ , Richie had seen the whole thing…they shouldn't be flirting and she shouldn't be thinking about how alive she felt.

As she stepped out, the air in the apartment felt suddenly subdued. It was like the absence of Seth was suddenly an actual presence in the world around them.

It was early and he was probably on a totally different schedule, but Kate said it anyway:

"Ready for bed?"

Just like that, simple and to the point. She crossed her arms and waited.

He looked over at her, his expression a bit easier to read than usual. A little raw, a little worn. "Sure."

"I mean…with me…again," she said awkwardly, feeling the blood rush to her toes. Could he hear how fast her heart was beating?

"I know what you meant. I'll be in."

Before she embarrassed herself any more than she subconsciously was in her mind, Kate went back into her room, leaving the lamp on beside her bed and got under the covers. She made herself look like she was busy on her phone when he came in, dressed in a white t-shirt and boxers. Just like the previous night, though she assumed it was a new set of clothes.

Richie got under the covers on the unoccupied side of the bed, his face immediately more soft and boyish without his sharp rimmed glasses.

Kate fiddled with her phone only a moment more before putting it face down on the table and turning out the light. It was somehow easier to be laying next to him in the complete darkness. Her alarm clock had even gone out. She'd have to get new batteries for it.

Her curtains, the dark ones that came with the apartment but that she never used, were so heavy they had to be blackout curtains. She couldn't see a thing and found it disorientating. She grappled around in the dark and found his hand.

"Sorry," she whispered. She pulled her hand away.

He grabbed her fingers before she could return to her side of the bed. "Are you okay? Your heartbeat spiked there for a sec."

She swallowed. "I'm okay. The darkness is just…not really my friend."

Richie lay there quietly for a few seconds before he got out of bed.

"Oh no, Richie, you don't have to…" she trailed off, unsure of where he even was. Her eyes searched the darkness until the bathroom light across the hall went on. She saw his large silhouette as he pulled the door almost closed, leaving enough light for her eyes to adjust and her heart to settle down.

He got back under the covers and she reached for his hand on purpose this time. "Thank you," she said genuinely. "I'm…I'm glad you came when I called." He mumbled some sort of response. It didn't matter what it was, she was just glad to have him there. She squeezed his hand, and his fingers curled gently against hers briefly. "I've missed you."

She didn't know how she could miss someone she didn't really know, someone she hadn't spent that much time with, but she knew him _so well_ because of Amaru reading his soul, it was hard for her not to feel like she knew him better than anyone.

He had seen her soul too. He probably knew her better than anyone too.

She thought she heard him say, "Me too," as she took her hand back and rolled over onto her side.

* * *

DAY 11  
**SATURDAY**

Richie wasn't in the room when she woke up. The soft glow of the sun filtering through her sheer white curtains woke her, like it usually did. She squinted against the light and felt around on the mattress, the other side of the bed empty.

If this was yesterday, she would have thought he'd left, gone for good. But she had a feeling that he was going to be sticking around. She didn't know how it would _work_ , but it didn't really matter. They both needed someone—Richie to help him through Seth's death, Kate to help her face the seed of Xibalban darkness that had been lurking inside of her all these years—and with no one else they trusted, it was just going to be the two of them.

Kate, a bit chilled, pulled on her longest, warmest robe and shuffled into the living room, which was a lot darker than her bedroom.

"Good morning," she said, crossing her arms and walking into the kitchen.

Richie was making coffee, dressed just as he'd been yesterday morning. "Morning," he said, the word sounding stiff coming from his mouth.

"Do you _ever_ sleep?" Kate asked as she leaned against the island. Sleep had always been a tough subject ever since she first stepped foot in the Titty Twister. As of late, Xibalba had been creeping back in, but the past few nights she had no dreams or nightmares and sleep deeply the whole night. It was amazing what having another person around could do.

"Not really," Richie said honestly. "You want to get breakfast?"

Kate arched her eyebrow as he handed her a steaming mug. "It's morning," she stated the obvious.

"It's cloudy," Richie said, motioning toward the closed curtains.

Kate thought about it for a moment. She rarely ate a substantial breakfast, and it would be nice to not be cooped up in her apartment all the time. Going out last night had been really nice. She didn't have to pretend to be a more controlled version of herself like she did when she went out with the girls.

"Okay," she said after taking a sip of coffee. "After I finish this. It's delicious."

"There's whiskey in it," Richie said.

She paused for only half a second before shrugging. "Of course there is."

Thirty minutes later, Richie was squished into Kate's tiny four-door car as she drove them five minutes to a diner that she had always passed but never been to. They made quite a pairing, Richie in his full suit, not a hair out of place, Kate in jeans and a sweater because she had been cold this morning.

They got a booth away from the window and Kate laid out her menu in front of her. And then a thought hit her.

"How often do you need to eat?" she asked and then rephrased. "I mean, how often do you need to eat solid food? Do you even need to?" She kept her voice low and leaned across the table a bit.

"Whenever I want," Richie replied, amused. "I never _need_ to."

"But you do," she said. Mostly, she was thinking back on the multiple meals they had shared together. He always ate a full meal, and she, being Kate, was suddenly hit with the worry that she was making him do something he didn't want to do.

"For the same reason I wear these," he said, tapping the frame of his glasses.

It didn't take much for her to put together what he meant. It reminded him of his humanity. As much as he was an extremely morally gray person, he didn't want to lose himself to the monster. He was Richie Gecko, cool, calm and collected, intellect and finesse; he wasn't going to become some slobbering monster consumed with greed. Power was one thing, greed was another.

They ordered some food and chatted about some things that were important but not at the same time. Kate managed to tell him about her kids at school and he actually paid attention. It ate up the time and, as they munched on what was left of their meal and drinking coffee far inferior to Richie's, Kate mentioned Scott.

"I talk to him every few weeks," she said, sliding her hands around the brown mug. "He calls me, so I kind of have to wait to hear from him."

"What about your complete and utter cutoff from the culebra world?" Richie asked. He wasn't accusing, just curious.

Kate sighed and sat back. "He's my brother," she said, and that was all it took.

Richie nodded once. "Seth and I just left our organization to fall into pieces. It didn't feel right going back after everything that went down."

Kate lifted the coffee mug to her lips. "So you just went back to your old tricks? Los Hermanos Geckos?"

"Yeah."

"What happened with being the big boss? Becoming…y'know, _more_?"

He looked at her and she looked at him. He didn't say anything for a long time.

"Everything changed," he said, throwing her own words back at her. Not aggressively or anything, but it struck a chord. Because _of course_ his life was different after everything that happened. Everyone in that abandoned town was changed from their experience there. It wasn't solely Kate. She tended to forget that, getting caught up in her own traumas.

A quiet minute later, Richie stood up, fishing two twenties out of his pocket. Kate was going to tell him that she doubted their meals were over twenty-five put together but she also knew how much money he had and thought the extra tip would be a nice surprise for their waitress.

The drive back was quiet. Once, Kate asked, "Have you heard from Santanico?" to which Richie gave her a flat, "No" and that was that.

He followed her up the stairs to her apartment like a heavy shadow. As she shoved her shoulder against the door to open it, she glanced back at him and asked,

"How about another movie? Your choice. And you can talk my ear off for hours afterward."

Richie thought about it as he followed her inside, locking the door before facing the rest of the apartment. "Have you ever seen _The Godfather_?"

Kate really, really wanted to say that, yes, of course she had, but then he would subject her to some intense conversation and her lie would be seen right through. "No?" she said, tacking a question mark on the end.

"Do we have three hours?"

"Sure?"

Full up on mild unspoken tensions, pancakes, and coffee, they settled onto the couch and put on the movie. Kate wasn't sure what she expected, but the slow storyline and lack of gratuitous violence was not it. She found herself enjoying it more than she'd thought—and more than _Carlito_ —and recognized some iconic scenes that she vaguely knew about before the film.

It was a long three hours—Richie didn't say anything and shushed her every time she tried to ask something so she could get the full experience of the movie for the first time—and by the time it was finished, Kate was practically curled up against his side, one of his long arms laying across the back of the couch, her head resting against his bicep.

"What'd you think?" he asked as the credits rolled through.

"I actually liked it," Kate said.

"You sound surprised."

"I am." She pushed herself away from him and back toward the arm of the couch. "Are you going to talk to me all about it now?"

Richie shook his head. "I'll let you think about it for a while."

"How generous," she mused. The music continued to play behind the black credits as the text skirted its way over the screen. Richie looked comfortable, and her feet were pulled close to her so they wouldn't end up accidentally making their way into his lap. Something Kate found herself actively wanting to do, but forcing herself not to.

This, whatever it was that was going on with them, started from something a lot deeper than either of them had admitted yet. And she wasn't sure how much longer she could wait to figure it out. Something _had_ to be said and she thought sooner rather than later would be the best bet. Just ripping the Band-Aid off rather than slowly pulling up the corners.

Sniffing, she pulled her legs under her and looked at him purposefully.

"Richie," she said to get his attention. He turned his head to look at her and waited for her to continue. "We need to talk."

Richie turned back to the TV. "No we don't."

"Yes we _do_. As much as you don't want to admit it, this isn't a permanent solution and we need to figure some shit out."

Maybe it was her tone mixed with the curse, but his eyes flickered over to her again.

"What are you going to do now that Seth is gone?" His name felt like a lump in Kate's throat. She wasn't immune to Seth's death. She had sobbed her heart out just a few nights ago over the elder Gecko, hadn't she? As much as she tried not to, she cared for and loved both of the Geckos and their insufferable life choices. "Because he _is_ gone, Richie. You're gonna have to figure something out."

She was expecting a fight, not because she wanted it, but because it was inevitable.

She wasn't going to be disappointed.

Richie stood up quickly, needing to move around to sort his thoughts. "You can't tell me what I have to do, Kate."

"Oh, please. What are you, twelve?" She stood too, just so that he wouldn't be towering over her more than usual. She crossed her arms and stood in front of the couch, watching him pace between the living room and kitchen.

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not. I'm being an adult here. You can't just sleep on my couch forever."

"I'm not sleeping on your couch."

She glared at him. "You know what I mean."

He slowed his pacing and faced her, his hands doing half of his talking for him. "I'm going to try to get Seth out of Xibalba," he said in a finite tone.

As much as she thought of the word Xibalba and even uttered it every so often, the actual reality of the place struck her hard. If she could have cowered in a corner, she would have. Xibalba meant Amaru, and Kate had always worried that she hadn't done away with the Queen of Hell fully no matter what everyone else said.

"W—what?" she choked out.

"You heard me."

Kate shook her head and tightened her arms around herself. "You…you can't do that."

"Don't tell—"

"You can't do that!" she raised her voice over his, drowning his superiority complex. "Richie, you _can't_ do that. Don't you remember what I had to _do_ to get the both of us out of there in the first place?" For someone who hadn't cried in a handful of years, she was doing a lot of crying now. Her eyes glossy, her throat burning.

Richie tossed his hands out to either side of him. "Then what do you expect me to do, Kate? Huh? Why'd you ask me to come here in the first place if not to fight your Xibalban demons for you? What's the fucking difference?"

Kate sniffed. Unable to keep her voice at a normal tone, it came out loud and angry. "I don't know! I don't _know_. I was scared and I was sad. I'm human, Richie, we feel sad and lonely sometimes. I didn't expect you to go and do something as stupid as suggesting going to Xibalba of all places! That's insane. _You're_ insane."

She may as well have slapped him. He moved quickly, snatching up his jacket from the chair. "I need a drink," he announced, loudly unbolting and slamming the door behind him. Both of them knew exactly what kind of drink he needed. The image held heavy in the air in his absence.

Once he was gone, she stood in the silence, broken only by the last few notes of the credit music coming from the television. It took her a few minutes to sink onto the couch and rest her head in her hands.

She hadn't meant to yell at him, it had all just escalated at the thought of another crack being made in the space between Earth and Xibalba. She was afraid of what would come out of it, if Amaru would come to destroy or torture her again.

Overwhelmed with her general life choices—going after Scott to the blood well, not going with the Geckos or Scott after they closed the gate, inviting Richie here after so long—she needed a distraction. Tying her hair back, she ditched her sweater for a t-shirt and got down on her hands and knees in the kitchen to scrub the floor with a sponge. With commercials playing on the TV for more movies to buy on pay-per-view in the background, Kate focused on her work.

Halfway through, she wished Scott would call her and she wished she could call him. Sometimes, she just really needed to talk to her brother. It didn't matter to her now—or before—that he was a culebra, he was still Scott, her little brother who was a pain in her neck, who loved guitar and God and comic books. If his outside didn't change, his inside matured at the same pace as she did, and she just needed to talk to him.

After the kitchen floor was clean, she stood in her socks and drank straight from the bottle of whiskey as she waited for the tiles to dry. The sun moved through the overcast sky as she sat on the couch and flipped through channels, changing whenever a commercial came on. She wasn't really watching anything, she had now resorted to worrying about Richie. Denton was not home to culebra. It was a new city for him, what if something happened?

He had just lost his brother, his otherwise insane choice about Xibalba was out of grief, she told herself. She had overreacted. What kind of friend was she to him anyway if she didn't hear him out and try to help him? Hadn't Kate, determined and unstoppable, walked into Xibalba to save everyone she loved? What made Richie's request so different from that?

"God," she muttered, resting her forehead on her hand clutching the bottle. "I'm such a terrible person."

She took another swig, deemed the kitchen floor dry enough and went to sit on it. Having no idea if Richie was even going to come back—what was the loss of a bag of clothes to him?—she started emptying the bottom cabinets of pots and pans. It was loud and if she hadn't been actively drinking, it would have bothered her. She piled everything up by size and once the floor was covered in steel, she nearly crawled inside the deep cabinets to scrub them of dust and general grime.

She was sweating by the time she finished putting everything back inside. The whiskey was just about done. She grabbed the bottle and walked around the corner to the bathroom. The light was harsh when she flicked it on. Leaving the bottle there, she walked back into the living room to yank aside the curtains. It was already dark out. When had _that_ happened?

She spotted her car sitting alone down in the lot and decided just then and there that he wasn't coming back. She had run him off with her own human fears. It was all on her.

Finishing the bottle burned her throat, but she gulped two mouthfuls and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. She nodded at her blurry reflection, and then crouched down, just then noticing how her stomach was rumbling, not taking kindly to drinking on a nearly empty stomach. She hadn't eaten anything since the diner.

Using the sink to steady herself, she decided to wait until the room stopped spinning before she locked herself up in a windowless room with chemical cleaners.

A knock on the door startled her. She moved slowly, feeling the alcohol sloshing around in her stomach with every step. The door, unlocked and untouched since Richie had slammed it, felt so far away. Somehow, she made it and pulled it open.

Richie stood there, a brown bag in his hand. "I brought food," he said, lifting it.

"Is that an apology?" God how she hoped her words weren't slurred.

"I'm sorry," Richie responded. "I shouldn't have just thrown that onto you like that. I know what it's like to be possessed by something and to have no control. I didn't think about how you might feel."

"I…I need to throw up," Kate said, moving cautiously but quickly to the bathroom. Richie stood at the doorway before sighing and stepping inside. Kate vomited up mostly alcohol, which was always worse coming up than going down, and Richie let her have her space. As terrible as it left her feeling, she felt better not having half a bottle of whiskey making its way through her kidneys. Once she wiped her mouth and swished it out with water from the sink, she tiptoed her way into the hall. Richie was in the kitchen, laying out containers of food.

"Sorry," she said. "You're getting a crash course in just how human I am."

"You forget I lived with Seth my whole life," Richie commented. "You hungry?"

With almost all the alcohol gone from her system, her stomach was back to being empty and gnawing at her insides. "Yes."

He handed her a white container containing fried rice. "Movie. Your pick."

"I don't know," Kate said cautiously.

"Your pick," Richie insisted, grabbing a few more containers and two forks and making himself at home on her couch.

Kate stood there, looking at his shadowy outline, shoulders, neck, the smoothness of his hair, before joining him. " _Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day_ ," she said, snatching the remote.

"What?" Richie was offended just by the title.

"You said my pick. I don't know gangster movies." She settled back as the movie quickly downloaded. "It's not a romantic comedy if it helps."

"It doesn't."

* * *

DAY 12  
**SUNDAY**

It's three-thirty in the morning when Richie woke up to find Kate absent in the bed next to him. He very rarely was in relationships that involved the simple act of sleeping in the same bed next to someone, and was quickly getting used to it. There was a little light coming through the cracked bedroom door.

Kate was in the kitchen, making tea. Her head hurt a little from her stint with Jack Daniels, and she hoped some tea and honey would help. She barely heard Richie walk into the room and jumped a little when he said her name.

Her hand flew to her chest and she gripped the counter with the other. "You scared me!" she exclaimed in a whisper. It was so quiet, she didn't want to disturb the silence.

"Sorry," he said, and he actually did look apologetic for once.

"Did I wake you up?"

"I'm usually up after dark," he reminded her.

"Oh, right." She poured water from her electric kettle into a mug, over a bag of chamomile. "I um…I'm not used to drinking."

"I can tell." He leaned against the island.

She stirred in some honey and dipped the bag in and out of the water. The silence between them was comfortable for once. Whatever tensions they had were gone, for now. No one could be tense at three-thirty in the morning. "What are we doing?" Kate asked finally, holding the mug carefully and leaning against the counter so she could see him.

"I don't know," Richie shook his head. "I'm the guy with a plan but I've got nothing."

Kate blew on the surface of her tea. "My life is completely upside down," she said with a sigh. "I had gotten away from everything, gone to therapy, stopped having nightmares, had a job and friends who weren't creatures of the night…I was just Kate Fuller again."

"And I came along and fucked it up."

"No," she shook her head and, deeming her tea too hot, placed it on the counter beside her to cool. "Even though I was Kate Fuller, I still felt like I was stifling a part of myself. But now, I'm just…lost in an ocean and I have nothing to hold onto."

"I know how you feel," Richie said, and she knew he was being honest because Richie was nothing if he wasn't honest. "It fucking sucks, doesn't it?"

"Mhm."

"I'm still sorry. I never wanted to turn your life upside down."

All it took was a little honesty during the wee hours of the morning for Kate to make a decision. Maybe it was a decision she wouldn't have made at any other time of day, but the fact was that it was happening now.

She pushed herself away from the counter and closer to him, thankful he was leaning because it made it easier for her to push herself onto her toes and press her lips against his. Soft and smooth, a burst of memories held in one tiny human connection. She was seventeen and completely _done_ with the Geckos and men in general, and yet there she was, trying to negotiate with Richie in the back of a strip club, kissing him and trying to win his favor.

She wasn't trying to win his favor now. The kiss was soft, her hand rested against his chest gently, and then she was back flat-footed, looking up at him in the shadows cast by the hood light over the stove.

"Kate," he said, as a warning, as he _had_ to do, because he was Richie and this was Kate and no two people would ever have their history.

"Richie," she responded, pressing her hand a bit more firmly against his chest. "Kiss me."

It didn't take any more provocation. She pushed herself up on her toes again, meeting him with lips hungrier than he had memory of. She put her free arm around the back of his neck, pushing her torso against his. Richie pulled her even closer, one arm circling around her back. She was so tiny, he was afraid of hurting her, but Kate was making it hard for him to focus on restraining himself.

Kate had his lip between her teeth, biting down gently and pulling for just a few seconds. She fell back on her feet, face flushed. He could feel the heat coming off of her, the pure essence of her being _alive_. He'd thought her dead so many times, sometimes he had to remind himself that she was actually alive.

Her hand gripped his shirt and pulled him forward, trapping her between an undecorated fridge door and his body. Always on her toes to make their drastic height difference bearable, she arched her back toward him and slid her hands down his sides, wedging her fingertips between the elastic of his boxers and his skin. Richie pinned her against the fridge, one of his hands grabbing her ass and pulling her pelvis toward him, his other tangled in her hair at the back of her neck.

Kate sucked in little puffs of air amidst kisses. Her body was filled with waves of heat and chills.

It had been years since she'd been kissed. Reba insisted a relationship would do her good, so she found a guy from church a few years ago and things were great. He was kind and a bit wealthy and they were good together. They went on dates and made out on her couch and slept together for at least a year and a half out of their two year relationship. The only reason they broke up—at the time, at least—was because he had to move to Washington for a job and Kate didn't want to leave Texas. Needless to say, they were young and in love—presumably—and Kate had nearly two years of learning about sex under her belt. She had officially reached a point in her life where she felt it was right and God how she had enjoyed it. Her parents would have been horrified.

But Kate now, pressed against a fridge, Richie Gecko's hands in her hair and on her ass, was perfectly okay with her parents being a little horrified. She was an adult; she could do whatever she wanted to do.

And right now all she wanted was Richie. His name slipped from between her lips in the middle of a kiss and Richie's hands settled on her waist. In sync enough to not even have to speak, he lifted her, light as a feather, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms holding onto his shoulders. At this height, their eyes met, blue and green, darkened by the dim lighting. A hint of a smile came across his face as he kept an arm under her bottom so she didn't have to cling to him so fiercely and his other hand slid beneath her shirt.

She kissed the upturned corner of his mouth and then his lips fully, making the perfect smacking sound when she pulled away. She laughed, a magical sound in the otherwise quiet apartment. Richie spun her around and set her down on the island counter, which was the perfect height, and pushed both of his hands up her sides, over her waist and ribs before she lifted her arms and her oversized long sleeve shirt was tossed to the side.

She should have been embarrassed to have him looking at her, shirtless in the soft light, and if not for the nakedness, for her scars, which she felt were made from neon and everyone would notice them straight away.

"What?" she asked, her hands resting on his shoulders. She wanted to get back to kissing. She could feel her heart slowly begin to settle to a normal pace again, and she wanted to feel it racing.

"Just…looking," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Such a charmer." She scooted forward and kissed him again, feeling around for one of his hands and bringing it up to her chest. His hands were a little chilly and it felt nice against her flaming skin. She dug her hands into his skin through his shirt as he massaged her breast, brushing a thumb over her nipple until it was as hard as it could get. She tightened her legs around his hips and moved to take off his shirt. It came easily and was tossed into the same general direction as her own. Any scars he had were completely healed, his skin smooth and flawless. She paused, doing a bit of staring of her own, running her hands over his chest.

Richie dipped down, kissing the joint of her jaw and then working his way down her neck, her jugular pulsing beneath his lips as he sucked at her skin and brushed against it with blunt, human teeth. Kate's hands went to his hair, messing it up as his kisses and the pressure of his teeth sent jolts of pleasure right through her. People so often misused the sensitiveness of the neck. Kate felt herself getting wetter with each kiss and scrape.

Her head tilted to the side, breaths coming hot and shallow, she moaned, wordlessly and breathlessly. Richie bit down a little harder on her skin before returning to her lips, kissing her long and hard. Scooping her up from the counter, he walked them through the living room to her bedroom, lit by the lamppost right below her window. Holding onto her, he leaned down over the bed and she let go of him, landing softly an inch away on top of the fluffy comforter. She scooted up to the pillows and kept her eyes closed, reveling in every touch as if it were going to be her last.

Richie left his boxers on the floor and slid up next to her, holding himself up with an arm beneath her pillow. She felt his cock against her thigh, slightly annoyed that she was still wearing her sleeping shorts. She leaned up and kissed him and slid her arm under his so she could grip his back. His free hand moved to her breast again and she felt jolts every time he squeezed her nipple, pleasant shocks right to her clit.

She breathed heavily through her nose and after a bit of kissing, couldn't stand the feel of his dick twitching against her and reached down, wrapping her hand around it. Hard and ready, she ran her hand along the shaft, and then brushed her thumb around the bottom of the head. Richie shuddered and whispered a curse against her lips. Her lips tightened into a smile that she couldn't fight. She tilted her head to the side and he kissed the other side of her neck now, his own hand sliding down her stomach, under her arm and disappearing beneath the edge of her shorts, her underwear.

She squeezed and teased him and gasped as his chilled fingers touched her, separating her legs just enough to give him access to rub and slide through the folds. She dug her fingernails into his back and tossed her head back as far as it would go as he muttered her name against her wet neck and pressed one finger inside. She moaned and paused her own hand movements, instead biting down on what little skin she could get between her teeth from his bicep. She bit down a little harder than expected, but he just pulled her a bit closer with the arm under her and continued to touch her, moving his finger in and out countless number of times before adding another. She left off of handling his cock and dug both sets of nails into his back.

Her breath came out in tiny bursts and when he covered her mouth with his, she was sure her lungs were going to burst. She arched her hips as he moved his fingers, curling them expertly and making her whimper. She ran her fingers down his back, trying not to use her nails, and breathed out his name against his lips, over and over.

With a fluid motion, he pulled his hand from her and moved away from her entirely, which pulled a small but fierce "No" from her lips. She couldn't see a great deal, but quickly felt his mouth against her breastbone, her nipples, down her belly and then he pulled off her shorts and underwear, and tossed them to the floor. She reached down, grabbing for his neck and shoulder, pulling him back up to her, wanting nothing but his kisses tonight. It felt like she had been waiting her entire life for this.

He moved accordingly as she took his shoulders and pushed him onto his back before straddling him, running her hands across his chest and dipping down to kiss him. He reached down to position himself and she moved back just enough to feel him enter her. It was the smallest amount, but he let out some sort of happy hiss and his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her against him and lifting his hips until he was fully inside of her.

Kate's eyes fluttered closed and he moved a bit, in and out. She bit down on his lip and he loosened his grip on her torso. She sat back, and he dropped her hips so she could move, her hands tanned against his pale, pale skin to steady herself. His hands settled on her hips and their breathing filled the space. She couldn't move overly fast, but it was consistent and felt more amazing than she ever remembered sex being. She could feel everything getting hotter and she could hardly keep up with herself.

Richie reached for her, bringing her down against his chest, grabbing her hair and kissing her senseless before he rolled them over, somehow still connected. Her legs hooked around his hips and he thrust shallowly, adjusted and thrust again as Kate clung to his back with fingers quickly feeling tingly. Again, harder and she let out a small cry, putting one hand behind her just to keep her head from hitting the wall behind her. He kissed her, rolling her bottom lip between his teeth before going a bit farther away from her than she would have wanted. He grabbed her hips and held them in place so he could thrust as deeply as he could. Kate couldn't keep quiet, making a racket she was sure would make the neighbors think she was being murdered, but she didn't care.

She moaned and cried out and said, "Oh yes" and "Oh God" and "Oh _fuck_ " as her underused body reached toward a climax. Richie let her hips go and kissed her again before burying his face in her neck and biting down as he thrust. Kate's legs kept him from going out too far and her nails dug into his skin enough to draw blood as he thrust. She moaned and bit down on his shoulder as an orgasm washed over her like a dam breaking, warm fireworks shooting through her body, leaving her legs quivering but she clung to him still until he called God into her bedroom and his thrusts faltered for a moment before going hard and deep and eventually stopping.

He kissed her then even though neither of them could breath and suddenly they were both sweating, as if their bodies had finally caught up with them and decided that all of the heat boiling around them was actually making them hot. Kate's heart thudded so fast she expected it to leave her body. Richie propped himself up on an arm, letting cool air rush between their abdomens. Kate ran her fingertips down from his hair to his neck to his chest as sweat beaded up against his skin. She hadn't even known culebra could sweat.

"Well shit," she said, to which he kissed her with a half smile. "Who said missionary was dead?"

He laughed a little at that and sat back on his legs, shifting himself inside of her. "If you know how to do it right."

"Which you do."

"Which apparently I do." He dragged blunt fingernails over her hips before he pulled his hips back and exited her, which always felt like an alien experience for Kate, who shivered as he flopped down on his back beside her. "We're not even together and we're already having make-up sex."

Kate laughed, truly laughed, that deep belly laugh that made her have to catch her already lost breath. Finally, she calmed down and perched up on her elbow. "My shower fits two," she said before leaning down and kissing him against reddened lips.

She got up and rushed across the hall to the bathroom and quickly peed before he joined her. It was different seeing each other in full light, but Kate didn't even care. She stepped into the shower and let the warm water wash away the slight hangover and her general meh-ness and then allowed Richie the water. They didn't do anything but shower, but it was nice to just be in the same place. They washed up and Kate had Richie drip dry until she was dry and could get him a towel.

Ripping her comforter off her bed, she tossed it into the corner of her room with a shrug—sex was always messier in real life than the movies made it seem—and got under the sheet and thin blanket after pulling on a pair of underwear. Richie left the light on in the bathroom, closed the curtains in the living room and in Kate's room, and then joined her, not bothering to put on any clothes.

Rather than sticking to either side of the bed, they came together in the middle and Richie played big spoon to Kate's small one, enjoying the smell of her clean hair and the feeling of her heavily beating heart through her back.

"Goodnight, Richie," Kate said, eyes already closed, sleep already threatening to grab her.

"Goodnight, Kate," Richie replied, kissing the base of her neck and promptly following her to sleep.

Richie woke her up in the morning this time. It's around eight. He flicked on the lamp and gently shook her shoulder, running his hand down the side of her, over ribs, waist, hips, to thigh. She woke up slowly, rolling onto her back and to be greeted by the face of Richard Gecko hovering over her.

"Hey," she said, thoughts about their actions just a few hours earlier tinting her cheeks red.

They had been warm enough to kick off most of the covers over the night. She reached up a hand and smoothed some of his hair back. Her eyes caught the scar on her forearm, where her gaze lingered a little too long. Richie noticed and caught her wrist. He studied the scar and ran a fingertip over it. Kate held her breath. He easily moved around her, looking at its twin scar on her other arm. He sees the wounds on her stomach, which he knew had their pairs on her back since the powerful bullets went clean through her. He gently ran his hand over her stomach, the scarred skin rougher and slightly raised against the rest of her.

It was the reason why Kate always wore long sleeves or cardigans, why she never wore bikinis anymore.

"I feel like people will get ideas if they see them," she told him softly. "I…I don't like people seeing them."

Richie shook his head and looked down at her. "Fuck everyone else. They're battle scars, they're a show of your strength, not of your failures."

Kate really had to stop this crying thing. She felt tears prickle her eyes and she kissed him once before laying back and clearing her throat. "Let's go get breakfast."

To the diner they went, where Richie finally grilled Kate on her thoughts of _The Godfather_. They both ate an enormous amount of food and spent the entire time talking about the 1972 hit film.

Kate found herself so content in that moment where she thought she could do this every day. And yet, as her real life loomed around the corner, she knew that she and Richie still had a lot to get through. Namely Richie's ideas about Seth and Xibalba.

Back in the comfort of her apartment, she cleaned up her room a bit and sprayed some febreeze around to dilute the sex smell and she even cracked open the window. Richie sat down at the far end of the island that was a supposed breakfast bar and Kate leaned against the island opposite, right where their little tirade had started a few hours before.

"I need to come up with a plan," he told her out of the blue, as if they were picking up an old conversation. It took her a moment to catch up.

"Okay." Kate crossed her arms and leaned forward. "What's this plan?"

"It starts with me."

"Well yeah," Kate waved a hand around with an amused expression.

"Since I've always been some sort of Xibalban from before I was even a culebra, I figure that I should be able to somehow make contact with Xibalba. I know what you did to close the gate, but I have to try. If Seth is in Xibalba, I should be able to find him."

It wasn't much of a plan, but the best plans came together slowly.

Kate took a deep breath to calm herself. She didn't want to get into another fight. Neither of them even knew if he would be able to get back to Xibalba in the first place. "Okay," she said slowly. "But one thing. I…I don't think Seth is in Xibalba."

Richie raised his eyebrows.

"Hear me out. If he was killed by a culebra or a Xibalban even, maybe he would go there, but he was killed by a gunshot. He was a human, killed by a human. Xibalba is a place of demons, not a place for souls to go when they die. I don't think it's supposed to be viewed in the same light as the typical Heaven and Hell scenario," she said, thankful he let her finish. "I'm not saying he isn't there either, I just think it's a possibility that needs to be faced."

Richie nodded, thoughtful, but didn't round up any answer to retort with. Both of them were out of their depths here, moving forward on nothing but hunches and guesses. Kate's thoughts would give them something to think about along with any other option they could come up with. Everything was up for grabs here.

* * *

DAY 13  
**MONDAY**

Kate called in first thing to work saying she couldn't come in. She outwardly lied for the first time in ages, saying she had gotten food poisoning over the weekend. Carol laughed and joked about maybe being able to last one day without Kate Fuller handling paperwork before they hung up.

If Kate wasn't so intent on trying to help Richie, she would have felt bad for lying. Carol never did anything to her. She was a great person, and didn't deserve to be lied to.

Richie had stayed up a lot of the night, coming in and out of her apartment, gathering as much information about Xibalba as he could. He was asleep now in her bed, the door shut, curtains closed so it was as dark as possible. Kate was quiet as she made tea, ate a bagel—just about the only food she had in the house currently—and set about to do her own research.

As cringe-worthy as it was to have to look up research done by Aiden Turner, she had to. He was one of the world's leading experts in the topic. She found a few others that eased her disgust at having to rely on a murderer and sexual predator's knowledge, especially one who had almost sacrificed her to old gods that didn't even exist anymore. She drank and ate and lost herself in all things Xibalba. It was hard at first, but once she got into it, it was like she was doing research for practically anything else.

Reba often said that facing something difficult and making it into something of your own made it easier to face. Kate was turning a nightmare into a strength to help someone she loved and it made easier to bear.

Richie got up mid-day and she quickly rehashed everything she'd been going through. Richie left, momentarily, coming in smelling a bit like a cigarette with a trunk that one person should have trouble lifting.

"These are all the texts I got from Turner, Burt, and from the Lords," he said, cracking open the case. "It should help."

Not bothering to get dressed, they spread out books and tablets and scrolls and researched everything they could get their hands on. They ordered in food when Kate got hungry and drank three pots of coffee combined.

Once every line, every ancient carving, every ounce of knowledge they could find had been squeezed out, there was nothing more they could do. To figure anything out, they had to step back and take it all in. Their minds were swimming with Xibalban demons, ancient sacrificial rituals, stories of Santanico when she was known as Kisa, just so much that Kate felt she had jumped right off the deep end. She went from no mention or interaction with culebra for seven years to learning the in depth history of them.

All they knew is that, at the moment, they had no concrete ideas on whether or not Seth would be in Xibalba.

"I need a break," Kate said, stretching her arms high above her head. They were currently in the wide hall, sitting on her carpet, papers and books scattered about.

"I think I'll keep looking."

"Richie," Kate said, folding her hands in her lap.

He didn't say anything, but pushed aside a sheet of paper to reach for a book.

"Richie," Kate tried again.

He once again ignored her and she got to her feet with a sigh. Everything was stiff. Her hips, her shoulders, her neck, even her fingers. She picked her way through the papers before planting her feet on the ground and doing some mild yoga stretches. Leaning this way and that, reaching down for her toes, bending and twisting a bit at her hips until one of them popped rather loudly.

Richie looked up at _that_ of all things. He squinted over at her. "What are you doing?"

She said the first thing that came to mind. "Trying to seduce you. Is it not working?" She arched her eyebrow and slowly tugged up the hem of her shirt.

He looked at her expectantly.

"Okay, I wasn't really seducing you, _but_ we've been staring at that stuff for so many hours I'm going cross eyed. Come on, take a break." She reached toward him, even though he was sitting two yards away.

"You're right," Richie said after a beat. He stood only after sort of organizing the piles.

Kate resumed a normal pose rather than a spread legged yoga pose. "I mean, I _can_ seduce you, if you'd like," she said as he walked toward her. She wiggled her fingers and he snatched them up in his much larger hand.

"Do you think you can?"

Kate shrugged. "You _are_ just a man. I think I can figure it out." She smirked, something she didn't do often, and pulled her shirt off, revealing slightly tanned skin, scars fully out in the open. She spun around in just her underwear. "What do you think?"

"I think," Richie said, reaching for her and pulling her closer, leaning down as she leaned up, closing his sentence with a kiss.

Kate smiled into the kiss and wove her fingers through his hair. "I take it that I succeeded," she mused.

"As you said, it doesn't take much," he said kissing her once more. The island was a bit too high, so he moved them to the nearest useable surface, the couch. She lay down and reached for his neck as he hovered over her, kissing and dragging his teeth over the sensitive spots on her neck.

They really hadn't gotten dressed today. She had just underwear and a shirt and he only in boxers. There was very little fabric between them. The longer they kissed, the more aroused he became until he had to push his cock down between her thighs just to keep it from poking her elsewhere.

Kate pushed her fingertips against his neck and tried to pull him down closer, but he was tall and the couch was not meant for this. Instead, he resorted to burying his face in her neck, bruising her skin.

"Richie," she said, reaching down between them and sliding her hand into his boxers.

He mumbled something against her neck as her hand slid down his cock.

"What do you want to do to me?" she asked, closing her eyes to cut out one of her senses. She focused on touch, the way his lips and teeth felt against her neck, the way his cock pulsed in her hand.

"Everything," he murmured, moving warm, wet lips to her own.

She stroked him slowly, pressing her thumb to the taunt seam at the base of the head. "Whatever you want," she said against his lips, as he quickly moved his hand and sharply pushed a finger inside of her without warning. Her muscles were tight around him, but they loosened as she got wetter.

"You're killing me, Kate," he said against her ear.

"I hardly doubt that," she said, ending in a gasp as he changed to two fingers.

He trailed his lips along her jaw as he moved his fingers, so much that she couldn't concentrate, just like yesterday morning, on moving her own hand against him. She moaned and arched her neck back. He pushed them in as far as they would go and curled them upward, hitting her G-spot and making her shiver and rake her nails down his chest.

"Sweet Jesus," she breathed out.

He kissed her softly then and moved away, pulling her panties with him and once again taking his boxers off. Kate, having had her eyes closed most of the time, hadn't actually seen him fully erect _and_ fully naked before and God damn it as a sight to see. It almost made her feel like she was a teenager again, but the feeling passed and she found herself being pulled to the edge of the couch, fully naked and wet and willing. He kissed her, long and lingering, as he rubbed his thumb in circles over her clit. And then, without her even being able to stop him, he dipped his head between her legs and used his tongue and fingers to their greatest intent. Kate couldn't even last thirty seconds sitting up before she had to lay back and try not to be so loud as he made her dripping wet with his tongue licking over folds and around her clit, his fingers slipping in and out until she was right on the verge and she begged him to stop.

He did, licking his fingers clean and flipping her over so she was kneeling on the floor with the couch supporting her torso. He didn't even warn her before pushing himself inside. She was so slick he was in with one thrust, which surprised her and made him moan out a, "Fuck, Kate" to which she just gripped the cushions in her hands and hoped the couch wouldn't move too much. She kept her legs together and he held her hips, bringing her back as he came forward, each thrust hard and full. Her body completely hyped from just moments before, she could feel wetness dripping down her legs and didn't even care. She couldn't stop the little mews and gasps that came out of her mouth every thrust, or the shiver that came over when he dragged his fingertips down her spine.

She came quickly, surprisingly, her body shuddering, muscles tightening, but Richie was far from done. He thrust through it, an experience unlike any other, almost bringing tears to her eyes from the sheer amount of pleasure. As he got close, he pulled her up so she was almost pressed against his chest, his hands cupping her small breasts. He thrust up, the new angle bringing more moans from her mouth and inconsequential words.

She didn't think she would come again, but it felt like she was still riding a high, and when he came, she swore she could feel it, the throb of pressure and the way he thrust shallowly before stilling, still holding her upright.

Kate put her hands out and used the couch to stay up as her legs shook beneath her. "Again, well, shit," she said, which made him laugh a little. He kissed her shoulder and separated. "I can't feel my legs."

He scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom, where she mostly sat in half a bath until she could stand. He washed her hair, a new experience for them both, and she highly enjoyed it.

"I can't believe we're doing this," she said as she rinsed her scrubbed clean body. Her legs still felt a bit like jello but at least she could stand on her own. "I mean, who would have thought. From Dew Drop Inn to…here."

"I don't know. I still think that we would have ended up here," he said.

She squinted at him as she dipped her head under the water. "How so?"

"Fate. We were supposed to be here, so we are." They skirted around each other so Richie could rinse off.

Kate thought about it. Maybe he was right. Maybe whatever they had, it had always been in the cards.

Kate got out first and wrapped herself in a towel after drying off. Richie followed, not bothering to really dry off, but wrapped the towel around his waist. He stood behind her as she dragged her fingers through her hair.

"Sorry about that," he said, brushing his fingers against her neck.

She paused what she was doing and moved aside her hair—it looked very red under the light and, for once, the sight of it didn't send her into hysterics—to look at her neck. Very prominent bruises were nestled there on either side.

"I…I've never had a hickey before," she said the first thing to come to mind.

He laughed through his nose. "You're welcome?"

She rolled her eyes and rapt her knuckles lightly against his abs before sliding out of the bathroom. "I could use some food. How about we go out and eat and once we get back we'll sort through everything we found?"

Richie hesitated.

Kate turned around in her bedroom doorway and shook her head. "After that, I definitely need to eat. Everything will still be here when we get back. It'll be okay, I promise."

He relented and the two of them got dressed for public; him in the living room, her in her bedroom. She pulled out a light yellow dress and a black cardigan and black sandals with a heel so she wouldn't feel so tiny next to him. She really wanted to put her hair up but made sure it stayed down to cover the dark bruises. She was done after a light application of tinted chapstick.

Richie was, well, Richie, dressed in the same white shirt, black suit that he always was.

"Do you actually own other clothes or is your entire wardrobe just twenty white shirts and ten different suits?" she asked, leaning against the doorway and crossing her arms.

"It's twelve different suits, actually," he shot back.

She shook her head and he joined her at the door. "Mind if we walk?"

He shook his head. It was dark, so there was no need for him to worry about being under the sky.

She led the way since it was her neighborhood. They bypassed the diner for something slightly more fancy. The food was fantastic and filling, the conversation light and flirty as Kate kept steering them away from the heaviness of what Richie was trying to accomplish with Seth and Xibalba.

Richie paid, as he tended to do, and they left, Kate slipping her hand around his elbow as they walked out. It just felt right, walking under the moonlight, slightly dressed up, not caring about things like the world ending or saving anyone. Her brother was safe. Seth, unfortunately, couldn't be saved unless they figured out a way to find his soul. They were…well, whatever they were, they worked. For now at least. Who knew how long it would last and Kate didn't really care to wonder.

And there they were, looking like a normal couple from the outside world, when Kate's world came crashing down around her.

"My, my, if it isn't the lovebirds themselves."

Kate froze. Richie even tensed, coming to a stop next to her, watching as Carlos came out from behind a shadow.

"Carlos," Richie said, deadpan. Kate dug her fingers into his arm. They were both bristling at the unwanted contender.

"Mr. Gecko," Carlos said, holding his hands in front of him. "Miss Kate." He tilted his head at her.

Kate glared. "Don't come near me."

"Fuck off, Carlos," Richie said, taking a step back and pulling Kate with him.

"Then you won't hear the news." Carlos sighed, dramatic as always. He waited as Richie and Kate had an unspoken argument with their eyes—Kate saying _leave_ , Richie saying they would but only _after._

"Well, what is it?" Richie asked. "Spit it out."

Carlos took his sweet time looking at them both. "Xibalba, my friends. It seems your little stint with Amaru wasn't permanent. Duct tape, if you will."

"What are you talking about?" Kate asked, her voice even keel.

"Xibalba is _leaking_ into the realm of humans. Our home, right here." Carlos put his hands out to his sides and turned around. "All because _you_ ," pointed a finger at Kate, "walked out Xibalba with _him_ ," finger at Richie.

Kate frowned as Richie spoke. "Cut the shit, Carlitos. Is that your new job description? Annoying fucking spirit guide?"

"Kate?"

A female voice cut into the tension between them. Kate glanced past Carlos and swore under her breath. Cathy and Janet came walking up as if they'd been invited.

"Cathy," Kate said, faking a smile, "Janet. Hey you."

Cathy caught Kate's eye and smirked as she lifted a finger in the air and circled it around. "Who are your _friends_?" Her eyes flickered down to Kate's hand on Richie's arm.

Kate, not wanting to deal with the women at this time, couldn't let herself blow them off. She composed herself. "This is Richard." Richard gave them a tight smile. "And this is Carlos."

Carlos stepped it up a notch, bowing his head slightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you lovely ladies," he said with enough suave to make Kate's stomach churn.

Both of them were swept up by his politeness and Kate wanted them to leave, not just because she wanted them gone but because they were her friends and she wanted Carlos to be far, far away from them.

Kate stepped away from Richie and motioned for Cathy and Janet. They followed her a few yards away, leaving Richie and Carlos to their tense conversation.

"I can't believe you were holding out on us!" Cathy exclaimed, lightly slapping Kate's arm.

Kate sighed.

"Which one are you sleeping with?" Janet asked, craning her neck to get a second look at them.

"Tell me Carlos is available," Cathy said, crossing her arms. "He is quite…scrumptious."

"With that _accent_ ," Janet added.

Kate wanted to grab them by their shoulders and shake both of them and yell _He killed me! He killed me!_ but she couldn't. She had to somehow find a way out of this conversation that would not tag her as unhinged. "I'm not seeing Carlos, he's all yours," she said, knowing Carlos wouldn't stick around and hoping he would leave her friends alone.

"Then it's Richard. The tall one," Cathy said. "Is he the old friend who just came up and happened to make you late for work?"

Kate sighed again. "Yes. But it's not what you think." Time to somber them up. "His brother just died. He really was just looking for someone to help him get through it."

That certainly did the trick. Their flirty faces fell. "Oh, I'm sorry," Janet said, embarrassed.

"It's okay, really," Kate said. "We were just on our way someplace, but I'll see you at work tomorrow?"

The three said goodbye and Kate returned to Richie, who was nearly hissing at Carlos. She came up, hands held out in surrender.

"What the hell is going on?" she said, grabbing Richie's arm and pulling him back.

"Carlos is what's wrong," Richie growled.

"Obviously." Kate glared at the centuries old culebra.

"He's pinning this whole God damn thing on us."

"I was just telling Richie that it is entirely his fault for Xibalba meshing with this universe. You had the right idea," Carlos motioned toward Kate. "Walk into the gate, sacrifice yourself and Amaru would fall out of power, cut off from Hell. That didn't work. Amaru's amulet is still on this plane, meaning whatever power was left of her is straining the glue holding the two worlds apart and soon Hell is going to be here on Earth and everything you did will be for nothing."

Kate listened to Carlos, for once. Somehow, she knew he was right. She could _feel_ it, the same way she had been able to feel Amaru in the first place. It was still there, but weaker. But could she really blame Richie? No, she'd wanted to go home too. They had both been selfish.

Kate let go of Richie's arm and just looked up at him. He looked back, eyebrows furrowed.

_It was, ironically, red in Hell. Kate wasn't sure what she expected. Hellfire, brimstone, the screams of tortured souls…then again, that was the Christian Hell, not the one where Kisa was a goddess and a Queen ruled._

_Xibalba was a negative image of the world above. The sun was in an eclipse, but there was no town, just flat land with some dunes, dead brush and the occasional tree only as tall as she was._

_Was she supposed to feel something different here? Was she supposed to be able to feel the gate close? Or feel Amaru's power die?_

_She felt the same as she had on the other side, utterly human, lost and scarred and sad. She walked, because it felt like the right thing to do. And then, there it was: hadn't Amaru said Richie was sent into Xibalba?_

_With no one else around that she could see or hear, Kate set forward, determined. She felt that if she yelled out for him he may have heard, but who knows what else would be called toward her. So she walked, and walked and then, somehow, she found him. He was on his knees, head turned up toward the eclipse._

" _Richie!" she called once she was close enough. She called him again and kept walking until she was a few feet away._

_He squinted at her for a long time before the realization that she was really there hit him. "Kate?" he said, scrambling to his feet. "What…what are you doing here?!"_

_Kate was taken aback by his explosion. "Um…"_

" _You're dead. Again. You died_ again _."_

_She shook her head. "No. I'm alive. Seth and Scott saved me."_

" _I don't believe you."_

_She was sick and tired of miscommunications and not being able to have control over herself. Swooping down, she picked up a dried, thorny twig and cut open her palm as she walked toward him. Without a word, she grabbed his hand and did the same before placing their hands together._

_She felt a backlash as their blood mingled. Richie saw her struggle with Amaru for the past six months, almost dying in that church, all the way up to walking through the gate. Kate saw how he hadn't given up on her the entire time, his arguments with Seth and the others about saving her rather than just killing her, she saw it all._

_Richie gasped as he took his hand back and Kate pressed her palm against her side. "There, do you believe me now?"_

_He stood there, staring at her, seeing a ghost, seeing someone that shouldn't be alive, seeing someone he had been sure was dead multiple times. "Do you have nine lives or something?" he asked, trying to convince himself that she was real. Blood doesn't lie._

" _I have no idea," she said, choking out a laugh. She threw her arms out to the side. "You know that I'm here because Amaru is connected to me. So we're stuck here. Forever." A few tears escaped her eyes and she rubbed them away._

_Xibalba was barren, which was almost scarier than it being dark and filled with souls. She didn't want to stay here._

" _Carlos said I was part Xibalban," Richie said, having processed the situation enough to get ahold of himself. "Well, not in so many words, but I'm part Xibalban."_

" _Welcome to the club," Kate exclaimed, tossing her arms out to her sides._

" _He told me I'm powerful."_

" _Good for you." She crossed her arms tightly._

" _I think I'm powerful enough to get us out of here."_

_She stopped sulking then. She looked over her shoulder at him and raised her eyebrows. "Are you serious? I thought there was only one way in and out of here."_

_Richie shrugged. "Think about it. You and Amaru are connected. Amaru can't hurt you, you said it yourself. But you…I'm sure you could hurt her without being hurt."_

" _You're_ sure _. I'm sorry, Richie, that's not very convincing."_

_Richie shook his head. "Think about it. The demons and souls or whatever the fuck is here in this place hate Amaru. She promised them Earth but she can't have it, not with you here. They help us through, they also take their vengeance out on her…it's a win-win situation. A loophole."_

_Kate thought about it. What did she really have to lose? "Oh, what the hell. What'd you have in mind?"_

" _You have to call on all of the angry spirits. That's the only way we're getting out of here."_

" _I don't want to," Kate said, crossing her arms tightly._

" _Do you want to be stuck here forever, Kate?"_

_She didn't want that. She also didn't want to open herself up to this place, to let demons and spirits into her. Hadn't she suffered enough?_

" _Do you want to see your brother again?" Richie asked._

_She met his eyes harshly. She was holding onto the hope that Amaru hadn't killed Scott and Seth when she stepped through the gate, but she very well could walk back to Earth and find them dead. "I can't do this."_

_Richie took her by the shoulders and shook her. "Kate. I'm not going to be stuck here forever. I don't care if I'm the son of Lucifer himself, I'm getting back to Earth with or without you."_

_He held onto her for a moment longer before he stepped away and started walking. Kate stood there, crying not to cry, trying to remind herself of how strong she was._

" _Richie, wait!" She ran after him, her breath coming hard in the thick and heavy air. "Fine, I'll do it. Lead me to the gate."_

_Richie, using his third eye, searched out where the gate had let them through. They walked for what felt like an eternity before he stopped and nodded to her. He lowered his hand and it was her time to shine._

_She didn't know what she was doing, but she closed her yes and_ searched _using the power of Amaru for guidance. She felt living things in this place despite the fact that it appeared completely desolate. She could feel them and then they felt her. They jumped on her, both her human emotions and Amaru's essence. She was a beacon, and they were angry._

_She was angry, too. She stood her ground even as they unseen and seen, used her body and her soul. Somehow they licked at her soul and felt her intentions, and she, violated but knowing it had to be done, used the power she could glean from them._

_With Richie's tap into his Xibalban power and Kate's connection calling to Amaru on the other side, they walked out of Hell to destroy the Queen._

* * *

DAY 14  
**TUESDAY**

Kate barely slept. She spent most of the night alone in bed as Richie did God knows what. He never came to bed, and she gave him her key so he could come and go if he needed to. In the morning, the sun woke her and she struggled to pull herself together. She dressed in jeans and a nice top and a cardigan, of course. Richie wasn't in the house when she stepped out and she went through the motions of coffee and bagel—the last one—before heading into work.

Cathy and Janet both gave her apologetic looks when she walked in. Kate stuck to her desk, but was completely distracted.

Had her one selfish act after her one selfless act really been the cause of so much bad? Was the world coming to a crashing halt because of her once again? Because, if she hadn't died at the blood well, who would Amaru have gotten into? There was no one else around. And here she was, the world coming to pieces around her again. That feeling of tendrils of Xibalba reaching out toward her probably _weren't_ hallucinations and all of these people around her, the staff, the kids, their lives would end and it was all because of her.

"Kate. Kate!"

Kate blinked and shook her head. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. I'm just…I have a lot of stuff going on."

Carol stood there. "Cathy and Janet filled me in. A friend of yours died?"

Kate swallowed hard. It was so odd hearing it from someone else's mouth. Seth Gecko; dead. How the hell had that happened? "Yes. I'm sorry. It's no excuse for my unprofessional behavior."

"Kate. Go home. Cathy or someone else will take over if anything comes up. Take the day, come back tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

Carol nodded. "Yes. Now go."

"Thank you." Kate gave her a genuinely grateful smile, gathered her things and left. The entire car ride she had to force herself to focus and not zone out. The last thing she needed was to get into a wreck.

Richie's car was there when she pulled in and just the sight of it made her run up the stairs and burst into her apartment. It felt like she hadn't seen him in months, which was ironic since he had only been in her life for less than a week.

Her grand entrance made him stare at her and she had to calm herself before she ventured inside.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

She closed the door and locked it. "Yeah. I'm okay. Where have you been? Are you alright?" She got closer and noticed he had some blood on his shirt.

"I've been putting feelers out, making plans," he said, sweeping his hands outward. He turned her kitchen island into a workstation. "It's what I do."

Kate dropped her purse on the floor and joined him, looking at a number of things that didn't make sense to her. "What do your feelers say?"

Richie shrugged and, as he did when he was getting into his _mode_ , talked with his hands. "They say shit's been getting real. A slow rumble before everything comes crashing down."

"Oh," Kate said, leaning against the counter. She frowned as her thoughts slowly began to piece themselves together. Before they could fully form, her phone rang. She grabbed it out of her back pocket and saw it was an unknown number. She answered immediately. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

Kate sighed with relief. "Scott, oh my God. It is good to hear from you. You have no idea."

"Is it? What's going on?"

She quickly got him up to speed. "Seth um…he was killed. Richie is here. Xibalba is leaking into our world. We're trying to fix it."

"Xibalba," Scott repeated.

"Yeah, the one and only. Have you, I don't know, heard anything or seen anything lately?"

Scott paused to think. "Come to think of it, there've been some rumors, y'know _around_. May have seen some demonic entities popping up over the past month."

"The past month? It must be happening faster than we thought." She looked over at Richie who was intent on whatever plans he had on the island.

"Kate?"

"Yeah, Scott?"

"What do you think you're going to have to do?"

"I…I don't know. Probably something horrible. But I can't let Amaru win. I can't let Xibalba break through to Earth because that's what she wanted."

"I know, I was there."

"I know you were."

A little bit of silence.

"Scott?" Kate said.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too. If you need my help, I'll be at this number for a few weeks. Okay?"

"Okay. Goodbye, Scott."

"Bye Kate."

Kate stood there, leaning against the back of the couch, looking at Richie, the only connection to her brother a hard square phone in her hand, and she made up her mind. Dropping her phone on the couch, she walked forward and stopped opposite Richie.

"Richie," she said, trying to get his attention.

"Mm?"

"Richie," she said again. "There won't be any seduction this time, so you may as well look at me."

He did, raising his eyebrows first and then his entire head until he was looking right at her. "I'm looking."

She took a deep breath. "There's a really simple answer to all of this," she motioned toward the papers. "I have to go back to Xibalba."

"What? _Kate_."

"No, listen. If me leaving in the first place is what caused this rift, then I need to go back, it's as simple as that. I should have never left. I should have stayed and let you go through without me."

Richie shook his head and circled the island until he stood in front of her. He took her hands out of her back pockets and held onto her wrists. "Kate," he said softly. He had no argument for her, because even as he tried to form one, his mind was putting the puzzle pieces together and he knew she was right.

"It was always going to come down to this, wasn't it?" Kate said, a little saddened by the realization. She had been living on borrowed time for the past seven years and what did she have to show for it? A handful of friends who didn't really know her, an okay apartment, and a tiny car. That was _it_. She could have really been something and yet here she was. "Always and forever, I was going to end up in Xibalba again. It's been trying to find me. I don't need you to fight my battles for me, Richard. I don't have to fight at all."

He didn't try to talk her out of it. There was no point because she was right, and he was going to let her decide whatever she wanted to do because he had no hold over her. "As simple as that," he said, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her softly on the forehead.

Kate accepted her fate like a champ. Richie picked up all of his Xibalban research as she sat down and hand wrote letters: a letter to everyone at work, a letter to her friends not from work, a letter for her therapist. There was so much to say and she couldn't even say most of it. She kept them short and simple. Maybe they would think she was kidnapped by Richie. Maybe they would think it was a suicide note and she killed herself somewhere where they wouldn't find the body. Maybe she would just become an odd case for the history books of multiple kidnappings and disappearances. It didn't really matter because she would be in Xibalba.

She thought about packing up everything: her clothes, her personal items, anything else she could find, but decided it felt too defining and she didn't want that. When she was all done, she stood in the slightly opened curtain space on the large sliding glass door to her balcony.

Richie came up behind her and put a hand on her back. "Carlos told me where Amaru's necklace is." It was more or less true. Carlos was full of riddles these days. Richie was smart enough to figure it out for himself.

"Okay," Kate said. She left her phone on the couch and grabbed her one and only black leather jacket from the closet. "We may as well do this now, before I lose my nerve."

"Sure."

"Will the sun bother you?"

"I'll survive."

Kate nodded once. She needed no weapons for getting into Xibalba. She left with nothing but the clothes on her back and Richie at her side. They got into his GTO, the windows more tinted than her own, and Richie let her drive. He told her where to go.

"According to Carlos, a Sheriff, some occultist or some shit, found Amaru's necklace in the wreckage and has been trying to get her back with it. Obviously he hasn't succeeded, but we need the necklace to open a gate."

"Right." Kate gripped the wheel. "Just tell me where to go."

With the radio up high, sunglasses on and a few hours of daylight left, Kate drove and Richie did his best not to burst into flames. They got to the town and Kate parked in the shadiest spot she could find. She and Richie stayed in the car.

"Do we do this now?"

Richie shook his head. "We should wait until dark. Getting the Sherriff at home or when he's leaving the station will be our best bet."

"And what now?"

Richie looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. "I dunno, we have time to spare."

She looked at him pointedly. He couldn't actually think she would have a quickie in the car before she damned herself to hell, did he?

"Want to talk about _Miss Pettigrew's_ or whatever?"

Kate laughed. "Are you serious?"

"What? I have a thing where I have to think over every detail of every movie I see. It's a curse."

"It's sweet," Kate shook her head with an amused curve to her lips. "I'd love to hear what you think."

Richie could talk longer and more captivatingly than almost anyone Kate could think of. By the time their conversation dwindled down, it was getting dark. She and Richie left the car and scoped out the station. Nearly empty.

"I guess it'll be here," he said.

"Cameras," Kate cautioned.

He shrugged. "We're going to hell anyway. They won't be able to find us."

He was right. She followed after him, walking with purpose as they slipped in a side door. Kate held her breath. What if he didn't have the amulet with him? What if there were more people inside? She wished she had a gun.

Richie motioned her behind him. She stayed as he turned the corner.

"Sheriff," he said, getting the attention of the older gentleman with a cowboy hat.

The sheriff turned. "Hello, son. Can I help you with something?"

Richie smirked and held out his left hand, revealing his third eye. The man immediately started spouting some sort of spell but Kate came up behind him and kicked out his knee so he stopped speaking and groaned in pain. Richie put his hand against the man's forehead.

"Inside pocket," he said to Kate.

She hurried to get the man's pocket. He started struggling, but she felt the cool metal and grabbed it, backing away.

"Further," Richie almost barked, his concentration on the man. Kate disappeared back behind the wall. She watched as Richie muttered something and stepped back. The man emptied a trash bin and stood on it as he lit it on fire. His screams filled her ears as the fire licked up his legs and he slowly and agonizingly burned to death.

She wouldn't be here to see most of it. The screams echoed around in her brain. She couldn't bear to look at the man as he stood straight and still as a board, just letting the flames overtake him.

"Let's go," Richie said, breezing past her.

She followed, jogging, thankful for the cool air. Her lungs felt constricted. They didn't say anything until they got back to the car.

"Do you think we'll need weapons?" Richie asked, popping the trunk.

Kate frowned as she clipped the necklace around her neck. The weight of it felt heavier than any stone. "What?"

"Do you think we'll need weapons on the other side?" Richie repeated.

"We?" Kate could feel whatever was left of Amaru on the other side. She could feel the Xibalban natives and the demonic spirits reaching for her.

"You really didn't think I'd let you go to Xibalba _alone_. Kate, c'mon." He tilted his head. "What kinda guy do you take me for?"

Kate shook her head. "I don't know."

"Listen. I have nothing on this side. Yeah, I complained like a son of a bitch about having Seth around, slowing me down, but I can't stand to be here without him. And over there, I'll have real power and I can help you, isn't that why you called me in the first place? And fuck, maybe I can find Seth while I'm there. What do we know, huh? What the fuck does Sex Machine know of Xibalba?"

Kate looked up at him skeptically. "Nice speech."

"Thanks. I kind of winged it."

Kate could feel the power building, culminating on this spot, around her. "I think it's happening. I can feel it." The darkness was all racing toward this spot, toward her. She closed her eyes and focused on herself, Kate Fuller. Richie took her hand and she, for once, had that anchor to remind herself what was real, that _she_ was real.

A gate, a swirling crack in the reality before them, came into light. It did not look inviting, it looked hungry. Kate squeezed Richie's hand and didn't let go as she stepped forward. The gate greedily accepted the remnants of Amaru within Kate and even her companion.

With no hint of Amaru left on Earth, the gate shattered, never to be opened again.

* * *

**INFINITY**

In what once was Amaru's castle, a mixture of a termite's tower and Dracula's castle made of sandstone, Kate was screaming. If anyone else were in the castle they would have heard her guttural moans. She had some of a sheet bit down between her teeth, but it did little to nothing to cover her moans. Above her, Richie gripped the edge of the bed, his front against her back as he thrust, hard and deep. He went so deep she could feel his head slam against her cervix, sending jolts of pleasurable pain through her.

Her knees shook and all she was doing was lying on her stomach. One hand gripped the very edge of the mattress near Richie's hand. His lips brushed her ear as he moved, thrusting harder and faster. Her other hand was shoved between the mattress and herself, her fingers working on her clit until she felt herself starting to come.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," she muttered around the sheet as her body shook. Her muscles clenched around Richie's cock as he was moving out and he let out a moan of her name as he thrust back in, feeling the ridges of her tighten around him and his own orgasm rolled through.

"Fuck," he breathed out, biting down lightly on her ear.

Kate could feel herself almost slipping off the edge of the bed but she was too blissful to move. She reached back with her hand and wove her fingers through his hair. "I don't think this will ever get old," she said breathlessly as he pulled out of her and they settled down next to each other. They were on the end of the bed, covers everywhere but on the mattress, pillows strewn across the floor.

She curled against Richie's chest, her heart pounding.

"I have work to do today," Richie said, moving his fingertips in slow circles across her skin.

"You always have work."

"I _am_ the King of hell."

Kate sighed. They had been here for months, or so she guessed. Time moved differently here than it did on Earth. She was going to be 25 forever, an immortal Queen. How had she gotten here? She was Kate Fuller from Bethel and yet here she was, living in Hell.

"What kind of work?"

"The kind involving demons and figuring out the hierarchy," Richie said. He stood, leaving her alone on the bed.

Xibalba was a weird place. It was difficult to _create_ , but you could just think of something and it happened. Needed to get cleaned up after sex? Just a thought and it was done and you found yourself dressed and smelling as fresh as daisies.

Richie straightened his tie. Being King suited him. It was a surprise that Kate hadn't seen it before. Being head of the culebra world wasn't ever going to be enough for him. But King of Hell, ruler of demons and demi-gods? He was definitely where he belonged.

He gave her a soft smile before shifting into his culebra face, fangs and scales and left their bedroom. Kate lay there for a few more minutes before she also got up. It took seconds for her to feel washed up, and she pulled on one of Amaru's long, black robes. It felt like it was made of silk, but who really knew.

There was a snuffle outside the door, which she walked toward and opened. One of many pets, a three-headed snake slithered through. They had popped up soon after she and Richie arrived and destroyed not only the amulet, but whatever was left of Amaru's spirit too. Kate let the snake flitter around the room as she pulled the bed together. She could _think_ about it, but she would rather use her own hands.

Once the room was back in order, she sat down and the snake curled itself around her ankle. She ran her fingertips along its three different crowns. "How long do you think it will take?" she asked it, even though it couldn't answer.

Kate stood and it coiled onto the floor. She walked to the balcony, holding the robe around herself. Outside was the sun, a negative of the sun on Earth, and the endless expanse of land that Richie and she ruled. How long would it take for him to fix everything Amaru had done? He had to make sure everyone knew who was in charge. He had to make sure everything was in place.

She leaned against the dark, carved bannister and watched the twisted shapes of some demons coming toward the castle.

How long was it going to take before Richie could think about other things? Namely about finding Seth? Here, Kate was just Kate. She had no connection to Amaru, no connection to the demons, but she had freedom and power in the sense that she could do anything she wanted here.

She could look for Seth. She had been starting to, searching through the many rooms and caves of Amaru's castle. There was all the time in the world and she knew that Richie hadn't forgotten about his brother.

The three-headed snake had followed her and was now slung across her hips like a belt. She reached down and rubbed her fingers over the scales. "Soon," she said. "Everything will happen soon."

 

**Author's Note:**

> PS. I was GOING to add shadowselves to this fic but since it wasn't explained well in the show and I was just getting confused with it, I decided to ignore it entirely. I hope that doesn't ruin the experience.


End file.
